


Gray

by Jeepers_Creepers



Category: Stardew Valley (Video Game)
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Comfort, Depression, Developing Relationship, Eventual Happy Ending, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Romance, Self-Destruction, Shane is standoffish because....Shane, Shane's POV, Slow Burn, Suicidal Thoughts
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-09-21
Updated: 2019-07-02
Packaged: 2019-07-15 01:51:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 27
Words: 40,704
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16052960
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jeepers_Creepers/pseuds/Jeepers_Creepers
Summary: Nothing ever changes in Shane's life. Nothing ever seems to change in the Valley, either. He'll work for Joja until he's fired and he'll drink himself to sleep until he just doesn't wake up again.That's what he used to think, at least.There's a new woman in town who seems determined to get in the way of his plans, no matter what he has to say about it. She's sunny even in all black, the life of any party, and he doesn't know the first reason she would want anything to do with him. They may have a lot more in common than he thought.





	1. The Golden Egg

 

Shane had heard about her for way too long. It seemed like everything between him waking up and trudging to work and walking back home and passing out on top of his covers had to revolve around listening to someone gossip about the new farmer in town. Really, he shouldn't have been surprised. He wasn't surprised at anything anymore.

"They're really beautiful hens." Shane jumped, turning to look at the woman who had taken up admiring the birds beside him. _The new farmer._ Of course. He watched her out of the corner of his eye, already irritated.

She was odd looking even for someone from Zuzu, with blonde hair tied up in a red bandanna, eyeliner ringing her eyes and an old leather jacket not exactly screaming "farmer". She looked like the kind of girl that would've stepped out of Sebastian's fantasies, but as far as he had heard the Valley's newest resident, _Lucky_ , hadn't really talked to anyone but Aunt Marnie and the doc, Harvey.

When he didn't say anything in reply, her green eyes lingered on him. The heat crawling up his neck only ticked him off more. Why was he embarrassed? What did he care? So what if she was new. And mildly attractive. That meant shit. _Anyone_ from out of Pelican Town would be. She'd be just like anyone else in a few weeks.

He stuffed his hands in his hoodie, turning farther away. "Why are you talking to me?"

"Because Marnie told me you help with the chickens," came the matter of fact reply. She wasn't bothered. Why the hell not?

"I guess." He crossed his arms, determined to wait until she got bored and left.

"I actually moved here because someone told me I'd be better off raising chickens, anyway." He could hear her smile but he couldn't picture it. Instead he just glared down at his shadow and regretted his decision to show his face at the damn egg festival. "Your name's Shane, right?"

"Unfortunately," he spit back, only getting more and more riled by her lack of reaction. Yoba, couldn't she just leave already?

"Hey, Lucky! The egg hunt's about to start!" Sam's voice always felt three times louder than anyone else's, and it never failed to give Shane a headache. Marnie would have said it was the booze, but he had just enough to keep him functioning in public. Not a lot.

Shane forgot his resolution to not look at Lucky in his instinct to bitch at Sam to use his obnoxious _indoor_ voice, and somehow seeing all the hens huddled around her like she was a new addition to the flock only pissed him off more. Whatever. He didn't like the stupid birds that much anyway. He only helped Marnie with them because she let him stay at her place so cheap.

"Come on, we've got to win! That or Abigail gets it for the third year in a row! Seb will never let me live it down."

Shane couldn't help it. He snorted at Sam and his overexcited waving. The newbie, winning the egg hunt? He was going home to drink anyway.

"Oh yeah, you have fun, farmer. You can _definitely_ do that first try." He sidled past her, finally meeting her eyes. "Sorry I'll have to miss it," he drawled, giving Sam a blank look in return for his scowl.

He woke up at noon the next day to something shiny outside his door. The golden egg, the trophy for the winner of the hunt every year. Worth nothing but small town bragging rights. Sooo...nothing. He picked it up, squinting at the ribbon around it. The note on it was simple, in slick, confident handwriting. **_'Sorry you had to miss it.'_**

He went to go feed the chickens.

 

**__________**

 

  
Alex was a dickhead.

He hung onto that one slice of success he had in high school and took every opportunity to rub your nose in it if you didn't care about gridball or the meatheads who played for it. Still, hearing that he had it out for the new farmer was surprising.

Shane laid on the couch, flipping through the pages of a magazine like he was actually reading it while Aunt Marnie talked all about how Alex had gotten in the farmer's face in the Stardrop and tossed a few choice words around she would  _not_  be repeating for such a nice girl. "He said if she were cut out for being here she wouldn't have gotten herself hurt. Can you believe that?"

Marnie continued on as she stewed the goulash, more and more feathers ruffled as she went, but Shane had dropped out of listening again.  _Hurt?_  He rolled it around in his head considering possibilities, finally leaning up on his arms and looking at his aunt. "The farmer got hurt?"

"You don't remember?" Her lips pursed into a frown, the same old condemnation in her eyes. Blackout.

She was right. He couldn't remember hearing anything in all of his aunt's updates on their new neighbor about her being hurt. "Harvey says she's been working too hard on that field. Girl thinks she can clear that whole thing of weeds and trees before summer. She was chopping at a tree out front and wrenched her shoulder real bad. I thought Jas was going to cry, dragging her in here and demanding I convince her to go to Harvey."

"Jas has been spending a lot of time over there, huh?" Shane conveniently found his eyes wandering back to his magazine when his aunt gave him the stink eye.

"Why do you have to say it like that? Lucky's a perfectly nice girl, and she's been giving Jas more attention than you have recently! How long can you be angry at her for moving in, huh?"

Heat flared in his stomach. "Oh yeah, 'cause she's so perfect, right? I forgot about that. You just don't know what wrong with her yet. Jas is wasting her time." He flipped over, biting his tongue and staring at the blank TV. He only saw himself in return, wrinkled blue jacket and patchy seven-o'-clock shadow perfect for the frown on his miserable face.

The only thing it was missing was a beer clutched to his side.

He was out. He pushed himself up, heading out into what was left of the late afternoon. He needed a drink.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As someone who's chapters are usually deathly long, I'm really changing it up with these little bite-sized chaps and I hope you like them and you find them fitting for Stardew! I'd love any characterization or plot feedback you have for me, and thanks for reading! :)


	2. Daisy Chain

Even sitting in the Stardrop wasn't as satisfying as it used to be.

He sat in his spot next to the fireplace, surrounded by the Thursday night crowd for a while before they said their goodbyes and went to go to bed to get up for their jobs way too early in the morning. Just like they did yesterday and would do again on Friday.

Shane didn't know how they could stand it. Just the thought made him down his beer and wave over Gus for another. He still wasn't drunk enough yet. Not enough to relax. But all he could imagine was the farmer sitting at the bar, Alex turning that smirk of his on her and saying something he'd deserve to get decked for. He thought being attractive and throwing a ball made him special—like Lucky didn't come from a city full of guys just like him and like it couldn't be taken away in one game. One wrong tackle and he would wake up a different guy.

Besides, what did he care what the hell she did? Shane sure as hell didn't, and helmet head needed to adopt the same practice.

After another hour of killing his own buzz Shane got a six pack to take home, infuriatingly sober and...irritated. Dickhead Alex. That idiot farmer, always getting herself into trouble. He trudged along, taking the long way home to pass by Lucky's house. The farmer the hens and Jas and Aunt Marnie were all just _soo_ taken with. The last thing he expected was to turn the corner and see her laying in the middle of the road.

In view of the warm glow of her windows, too. Like she had just dropped. Shane had never seen anything like it. He could've tripped over her. It took a few seconds for him to realize he wasn't just seeing things and actually react.

"Hey, farmer." He walked over, hoping she was just really drunk. Her chest gently rose and fell, but she didn't even stir. He nudged her with his foot. Nothing. "Hey, Lucky. You hear me? Jas'll be really mad if something happens to you, and mad at _me_. Go sleep it off at home."

Again, nothing.

He stepped closer, kneeling down and hoping something— _anything_ would wake her up. He ignored the voice that hissed at him for being a creep when he sniffed her, thinking that would the exact time she drunkenly awoke, kicking and screaming. There wasn't even a hint of alcohol.

Something in his heart jolted, pulling him up to his feet and stumbling away from her. He looked towards Marnie's farm, the jaded voice in him saying to keep on walking. It wasn't his business to take care of Lucky. She was a grown woman and had plenty of friends already. He wasn't about to start buddying up to her. But he couldn't move. Not until it was towards her. 

He dropped the six pack in the dirt, sighing and hauling her up over his shoulder for the walk to Harvey's. Damn it. Little farmer girl was going to get an earful for this. He daisy chained curses under his breath, more for the universe than her.

The fact the doctor would turn up to the door after 10 in plane boxers and a t-shirt would have to be listed under one of those things Shane didn't used to know and didn't ever want to know, but as soon as Harvey saw the woman slumped over his shoulder the doc dressed in record time. Shane didn't know enough about medicine to pay much attention to what Harvey was doing, but in the end falling asleep in the chair Harvey had insisted he wait in hadn't helped that, either. When he was awake again it was still dark, but the good doctor was nowhere to be seen. Great.

He rubbed at his eyes, feeling the usual aches and pains. His shift started at eight. It had to have at least been five already.

The righteous anger Shane waited for never came. He sat there, waiting, and no matter how long he looked he just felt...shitty. Whatever Lucky thought she would find in Pelican Town, it wasn't here. Nothing was.

Just a shame she hadn't figured it out yet. Some problems didn't have answers. You didn't always get a golden egg.

__________

Shaun moved slowly, not eager to lift another case of cola. He was on his last three, Morris having tacked another pallet onto his shift for being late. It'd be the cause of his back being out for the next week.

Shelving can after can became so monotonous even the drone of generic jingles JojaMart played on loop stopped registering. His life was a slow, gray blur, dragging him along face down in the current. His shoulder twinged with the pain that started up again as soon as he had lifted Lucky. Damn gridball wouldn't ever leave him alone.

Still, seconds ticked by and eventually it was time to clock out. He ignored Morris just like usual, shrugging on his jacket and heading out. He couldn't wait until the day he got fired.

It was cool already, but he froze as soon as he saw her. She was sitting on the bridge to town, legs dangling over the river and taking a drag on a cigarette. Her jeans were ripped and her usual leather jacket had some new dirt on it, but she looked okay. Definitely better than when he left her that morning. Mm. Good, he guessed. Jas would be happy.

As soon she heard him walking by she started, jumping up and giving him a "Hey, Shane!" that was way too friendly. He considered not stopping, but Lucky would just follow him anyway, wouldn't she?

"You really aren't good at taking hints, are you?" he sighed. She grinned.

"No." She turned behind her and grabbed a small pot off the railing, shoving it into his hands. "I make it a point not to."

She was obviously teasing him, but he couldn't find anything witty to counter with. He stared at the little sprout in the pot. "What is this?"

"A tulip. I know you probably don't like it, but you only have to water it every other day. Listen, I really appreciate your help." She laughed nervously, rubbing the back of her neck. It was surprising how red her cheeks got. "I guess Marnie's right when she says I don't know my limits."

Shane huffed, "You've got one thing right."

"Yeah. I guess I should take it a little easier." Now that was rich. _Ya think?_ "Why do you have to work yourself to death, anyway? In case you haven't noticed, this is Stardew Valley. Why bother?"

She smiled but it wasn't happy, her eyes dropping from his face. She wasn't as quick with her response. "I needed to do something right for once."

His grip on the pot tightened. From Lucky? That was the last thing he expected. She was the town's new golden girl. That venomous mix of sympathy and jealousy sloshed in his stomach like he was a kid again. The only one without the shiny new toy his friends had. It was stupid. "You're running a farm by yourself from Zuzu City. Doesn't that count for something?" 

"If my crops this season fail, no. It just proves I should be working for Joja again."

" _You_ worked for Joja?" Shane laughed; maybe she had a point. After working for the mega corporation no wonder she was crazy. It was hilarious just imagining it.

"Still have my jacket in a box somewhere. It's lucky it hasn't gotten tossed into my fireplace yet. I wasn't kidding when I said I came here because my friend said I'd be better off as a chicken farmer. Working for Joja made that appealing."

Shane was surprised, but shrugged. Not a bad point. "At least chickens make better company." 

He couldn't say he'd ever have pegged her for working for that soul sucking business, given the weird punky vibe she gave off. If anyone was "the man", it was Joja. Felt like they owned half of whatever got delivered into Stardew.

"So you _can_ laugh. I was starting to wonder. I mean, it was at my expense, but still." She crossed her arms, a teasing smile on her face.

Two could play at that game. "I heard you had a brush with the local welcoming committee in the Stardrop. Sad I missed it."

Lucky only shrugged, always determined to be easy-going. "You seem to do a lot of that. It was nothing special, really. Just can't say I take well to being pushed around; high school was fun, ya know?"

"Well, my aunt was ready to write a real hell of a letter to Lewis about it, so someone's looking out for you."

Their eyes met for a good while, and _of course_ she smiled. She was always doing that. Why would a purple bruise blossoming on her cheek stop her? "Seems like I've got more people than I know looking out for me. Thanks again, Shane. I'll see you around." Lucky turned and left him standing there like an idiot, plant in hand and face burning. He wasn't... _looking out for her._

Was he?


	3. Combat Boots and a Lei

Spring turned into summer and it felt like he saw more and more of Lucky. She had cleared all the field of weeds, and often when he couldn't sleep he'd make the walk over to her farm and find her still up, chopping wood and escaping the heat.

They'd sit on her porch in comfortable silence after he handed her a beer and share snippets of conversation. His tulip still hadn't grown much, and he tried his best to remember to water it but being drunk made that harder than he expected. She didn't judge him for that.

It was odd, really, having someone to talk to. For all the time he was forced to be around other people, very little of it was willingly. Lucky was...different. He didn't know why. Since she'd come into town, the gray in life got interrupted every once in a while. Not all the time, but sometimes. He didn't go to sleep thinking about the Joja jingles when he spent time with her. 

When the Flower Dance came around, he stayed home and opted to lock himself in his room and drink instead. Last thing he wanted was the old-timers insisting he dance with someone. It was worth the scolding Marnie gave him the next day _and_ the pounding headache.

She talked all about what a great one it was, with Haley crowned flower queen as usual and Harvey tripping during the ceremony and almost knocking Maru over. Apparently Sebastian asked Lucky to be his partner and she thought they were 'awful cute'. Gag. 

He couldn't find a reason not to go to the Luau—not one Marnie was happy with, anyway—so he turned up half-drunk and did his best to keep to himself. It was the only time he got to have red pepper chutney, after all. Alex's grandmother didn't make it any other time of year. 

The beach trapped the heat, warm sand spilling into shoes almost immediately. Of course. He made a beeline for the curry, spooning some into a bowl and sitting on one of the beach chairs set out. At least Marnie couldn't give him another talk for missing a 'community event', as she called it. Why she thought it mattered, he'd never get. 

So what, everyone turned up to talk about stuff that didn't matter or stand around in their little groups and gossip. _Everyone_ knew your business in a place as small as Pelican Town, and after catching Caroline talking about "That boy Shane, he's always got a drink, doesn't he?", he had learned to drink alone. 

That was a lesson Lucky hadn't learned yet, laughing and talking about something with Sam and Sebastian instead of doing the smart thing and blending in with the scenery. Abigail came up and they hugged, handing her a drink in one of those plastic luau cups. She seemed to have gotten pretty comfortable with that group, and he watched Sam brandish something proudly and Lucky's green eyes go wide. He laughed, suddenly pulling it back and holding up a finger. _Only if..._ Lucky rolled her eyes, swatting him on the arm and agreeing with a smile. 

Whatever the deal was, Sam was happy about it. 

Lucky had a lei around her neck, quite the contrast to all the black in her outfit. She was just...odd. Who wore combat boots on the beach? 

Lewis got everyone around the pot at two and the governor showed up in the same eyesore purple suit he always wore, tasting the soup and declaring it a success and spicier than last year. Shane raised his eyebrows, sipping from his low-alcohol girly beach drink they offered. Spicy? He might actually try it this year. 

Marnie always chucked something in the soup for him, so he didn't know _all_ that was in it, but it was usually the same, anyway. As long as Sam didn't get restless and toss anchovies in or a whole lobster or something equally disgusting. 

Lucky surprised Shane by pulling up a seat beside him afterwards, doubling the population of that stretch of the beach. "Having fun?" she asked. 

"A blast," he replied dryly, used to the smile it would bring now. 

"How am I not surprised?" Her makeup was stronger today, giving her a defined cat eye and a smokier look than he was used to. Yoba did she not look like a farmer. "The soup's good, but I'm glad I had some red peppers to add in. I didn't know it was a potluck until Harvey told me yesterday." 

"You must be why it's better this year," he said plainly, sipping another spoonful. "Usually tastes like boiled potato unless you mix it with chutney." 

She eyed him, giving a little 'hm'. "I didn't know you liked red peppers." 

"One of the only things I like, really." 

They sat in their usual peace for a while before he couldn't help it and spoke again. "Why are you over here, anyway? The party's over there, in case you forgot." 

"You showed." She looked happy about that, shrugging in her usual way. 

Why would she care? Not like anyone but Marnie and Jas ever batted an eye if he skipped an event. He couldn't blame them, either. Who wanted the local schlub around at a _party_? He was washed up and he wasn't even thirty yet. 

"I think it's nice, the way everyone comes together at these. In the city you don't really know your neighbors." 

He took a sip from his drink, looking out at all the neighbors he'd known for years. They ate, drank, danced, and laughed without a second thought. He just wasn't like that. "I don't get it. Life sucks, why do you still care? You work hard and make friends and wear silly flowers just for fun. Why bother?" 

She took a while, looking from him to the party. "Because it all makes life suck less." 

Anything he thought to say was bitter and mean, so he just kept his mouth shut. 

"You can always change things," she said with a sigh, standing up. "All you have to do is want to badly enough." 

He felt the lei slip down his neck but only looked up after she was heading back, illuminated by the torches stuck in the sand. He stayed where he was, thinking it over for a long time. 

Lucky talked and Sam dragged her off to dance with him to the summery music that drifted out from the speakers. Sam was always moving and talking—made Shane tired just watching him—but Lucky laughed a lot around him, playing along and moving with the music. She was warm, somehow, beating back the cold that seeped up from the water after the sun set. 

He heaved himself up from his seat, avoiding the light of the torches to slip out without saying anything. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A bit of a meatier chapter here and I'd love to hear your feedback and what you think of Lucky and Shane! Characterization? Plot? Dynamics? Your favorite parts, something you think I could do better with? All great motivation! <3
> 
> I've focused really heavily on Shane's depression - inevitable from his POV, really - but I can promise it's not going to be all doom and gloom, too, haha. Thanks for reading and stick around for chapter 4! :)


	4. Wishes

Shane didn't like the rain.

Usually he stayed in his room and pulled out the beer under his bed and had himself a good cryfest. Rainy days were the perfect time to do nothing but feel sorry for himself.

But something about today was different. He was on his sixth, and morosely staring out the window wasn't cutting it. He looked back to his mess of a room and the tulip slowly growing on top of his TV. It was another quarter inch taller at best, with a brown tint to it from lack of water. A hell of a lot farther behind than it should have been, but it was his plant, after all. He was just surprised it had stuck around at all.

The tulip reminded him of the lei, and he stumbled to his closet to grab it. He fished it out, sitting on his bed and scrutinizing the fake red flowers. _You can always change things..._ That was a hell of a lot easier to say than do. Maybe Lucky could, but so far he was still in the same town, working at the same place, waking up to the same person in the mirror. He hated it. There was a reason he didn't bother shaving most of the time.

The world was still gray.

Before he could question himself Shane was on his feet, lei forgotten, and doing his best to pull on his grubby jacket. Least the rain could count as it getting a wash, right?

It was a muddy walk from the ranch to Lucky's farm, but it's not like he had anyone to impress. The world lurched forward with every step; he was used enough to it that he managed. The farmhouse had warm light escaping the windows, almost unrecognizable as the same sad place he had passed for years. A steady, deep sound came from it when he was close enough. Weird.

The alcohol really cut into his critical thinking skills, so he couldn't tell what it was until he looked in the window, seeing Lucky sitting back on her couch with a bass in her lap. He didn't know she did that.

As he stared inside, he realized he had actually never _seen_ the inside of Lucky's house. It looked just about how Shane expected it to, with dark band posters on the wall, books stacked where they would fit, and a tulip of her own in full bloom on her table. It took him a while to realize he shouldn't be staring. That it was creepy.

Why was he even here?

The thought made him irritated with himself, but he couldn't nail down why. He backed off instead, sliding down the wall and listening to the rain and Lucky's bass. It was...nice. If only he could remember it tomorrow. The way she played made him feel like he was intruding on something private, but he stayed rooted to where he was. It was sad in a way he hadn't expected from her. The rain came down heavily. He watched it trail down the leaves of Lucky's plants, and for once he didn't mind.

Maybe she wasn't so different.

__________

 

Before he knew it, summer was over. Shane took to spending rainy days with Lucky after hearing her play. She seemed surprised the first time, but soon it became just another ritual of theirs she didn't mention.

Sometimes he brought Jas along, too, and they played board games or Lucky made them hot chocolate on the stove, always winking and giving Jas an "extra" marshmallow with hers. That thrilled her to no end, but hey, if it made her happy? Whatever.

When it was just the two of them, though, Lucky would play. Those were his favorite days. Shane could spend hours on her couch, listening to her play whatever came to mind. Apparently she had been playing for years, but right after she moved to town one of her strings had snapped. Sam gave her some at the luau if she'd consider joining their "band", which wouldn't be a band unless Abigail and Lucky joined, anyway.

That kind of haphazard planning sounded just like Sam. He probably forgot to tie his shoes until he tripped.

Still, Lucky was considering it. No surprise there, though if it meant he got to hear her play more...Shane actually didn't have anything negative to say, and shrugged instead. "That would be nice, if it convinces you to spend some time away from the farm."

Lucky laughed lightly, half her brain still dedicated to the way her fingers slid across the neck of the bass. "Hey, my corn is going to be the maze this year; it won't be any fun if it's waist-high. Besides, Spirit's Eve is my favorite holiday. I want it to help make it the best the valley's ever had." Her tune turned ominous, evocative of black cats and slasher films.

"You sure you aren't actually a witch?" Shane joked, raising an eyebrow. She had the look down, especially in fall.

"I wish. That's become Jas' favorite game, actually."

Jas, _right_. Shane took another swig of beer, leaning against his knees. "About that—listen, you really don't have to let her run her little pumpkin patch in your side yard. We've got plenty of land—"

"No way! I'm not using that space anyway, and if she wants it to be a magic fairy pumpkin patch I'm more than happy to check in on the magic pumpkin patch every once and a while." With her eyes twinkling like that Shane found it hard to argue.

"Alright, if you really don't mind. I just know she's always over here."

"And you work a full shift six days of the week." She shrugged easily, letting the last hum of her bass fade as she looked past him to the pumpkin patch outside her window. The vines were already crawling happily, producing off-color pumpkins the size of your fist.

Jas couldn't ever wait to tell him about her adventures with Lucky. It made him wonder how Lucky had it in her. Whenever he played with Jas he felt...old. It always hung in the back of his mind; how joyless and boring he was in comparison. Did he want to believe in fairies hiding in between the pumpkin vines and granting wishes? No, not really. But he wouldn't mind a wish or two now and then. _I wish I was excited for tomorrow. I wish I wasn't a waste of oxygen._

"I'm happy to get to spend time with her. I always wanted a little sister, anyway." Lucky's eyes met his again and he could see the restrained curiosity behind them. _Why is she alone?_

It was what everyone wondered when they saw his goddaughter. 'Why did she get stuck with a fuck up like you?' 

"Do you have any siblings?" He asked, dropping his gaze to his can. His throat tightened just thinking about it. Jas always looked a hell of a lot like Eric, even as a baby.

"An older sister. She's off in Zuzu somewhere, working in fashion. My mom visits her all the time."

"She anything like you?" He sipped on his warm beer. It wasn't often they hung around long enough for that.

Lucky laughed a lot harsher than usual, shaking her head. "No. No, Kate is doing great. Always has been. She's lovely. Smart, creative, really really beautiful. I always told her she should model her own clothes."

Shane frowned, biting his lip and letting that sour feeling settle in his stomach. _The extra special golden child, no doubt._ "So she's no fun then, huh?"

Lucky blinked, surprise etched on her face but nothing coming to her lips. Shane shrugged in response. "If she's nothing like you then I doubt I'd like her."

He was definitely imagining the blush that accompanied her boisterous laugh, but when she raised her drink to his in a toast Shane had never enjoyed warm beer more.


	5. Friends

Shane almost ignored the black out of the corner of his eye, so used to everything from 9 to 5 being absolute misery. It wasn't until he heard her laugh that he paid any attention.

True to her word, Lucky had been working even harder on her farm to hold up her end of a deal with the Mayor. She'd halved most of her exports to Pierre and focused on growing a massive field of corn for the Spirit's Eve maze; the kind that put the fake shrubs the Wizard always conjured up—or had stored in his basement, the town gossip never could quite decide—to shame.

It had been a bad few weeks for Shane. At first, on his walks to and from work he'd pass her farm, rubbing at his eyes and wondering if Lucky saw the same moody skies he did in the morning. If she thought they were pretty instead. He reminded himself over and over again that she was nice to him. That not being able to see him for a while wasn't some kind of plot to get rid of him; that was just what normal people did sometimes. She was working hard and he'd get to see her later.

But the more mornings he made his walk to work in silence and he drank alone in the Stardrop, the more things got worse. He didn't bother to eat some mornings, and avoided even Jas in favor of being alone at night. His thoughts turned more realistic. Lucky tolerated him. Like a lost puppy that had wandered onto her farm, she felt bad. Maybe Marnie had talked her into the whole routine.

It was a fluke. A concept of his pathetic imagination. Lucky was everything she thought of her sister and that wasn't the type of person who'd ever want to spend time with him. Much less be his friend. _No one_ wanted to spend time with him.

...And then there was that laugh. Bright and contagious, Shane peered through the shelves in time to see the grin spread on Sam's face in response. Lucky leaned against his counter, looking out of place against the cheap blue-gray of the walls plastered in sale flyers.

Stocking energy drinks became even _less_ interesting. He'd never say it to anyone but the bottom of a bottle, but it made him angry that she and Sam were _actual_ friends. It was jealous and petty but he felt it. Part of him was happy to see her, anyway. He was so cheap.

Lucky looked relaxed and confident even when she was covered in dirt and Shane envied that, too. Couldn't even remember what it felt like. Sam naturally mirrored her stance, one elbow resting on the counter top as they talked. "You sure?"

"Yeah. Thanks, though. I'll just working on my apple pie for Miss Marnie. You wanted to try my bread pudding, right?" 

Sam wagged his eyebrows, "I can taste it already."

Lucky flashed her smile and Shane second-guessed himself. Lucky wouldn't do that to him, right? She wasn't like that. He was letting his anxiety turn into paranoia again.

"Suck up." She pushed herself off the counter, scanning the store. "Shane's working today, right?"

"Yeah, Morris has him hauling around cola and shit like usual."

Shane froze like standing still could let him disappear entirely. No, no, no, no, fuck, _no_. Anger preemptively flared in his stomach at the prospect of being talked about. He had heard this script a thousand times before: 'I heard Gus had to kick him out the other night' 'Don't you just feel bad for poor Jas? Being raised by a guy like him.' 'You know Marnie does all the work.'

He still didn't have the sense to just duck his head and keep working. Shane always had to listen, and he was sweating already imagining those words coming out of Lucky's mouth. His stomach rolled and he took in a deep breath, resting his forehead against the cool metal shelves and wishing he could take back everything he said to her. He'd given up too much.

"How's he doing?" _...What?_

"He's always quiet around me, but I guess he's seemed quieter recently."

"Do you think I'd be bugging him if I talked to him?" 'Bugging him'? She really...cared that much?

"Probably."

She laughed again, "Thanks, Captain Obvious. See you later."

"Then why ask me? Wait, wait! What about going to that shop in Zuzu with me?"

Her voice was still heading closer. JojaMart wasn't that big. He didn't have that much time. "After Spirit's Eve—I'm still living off of ramen and my garden right now. Piercings mean money."

Sam squawked something back about how Lewis better drown her in gold after all this so they could have fun and Shane did his best to collect himself. He was so... _stupid_. No wonder people talked about him the way they did. He had one 'friend' and all he had done the last few weeks was get angry at her for not constantly lavishing him in attention.

He exhaled slowly, letting his eyes flutter closed and trying to settle his emotions before she saw him. The only one he had a right to be angry at was himself, and he had that in spades. "Hey, sunshine," Lucky teased.

He knew she was coming and he still jumped. The guilt only made his arms feel heavier, but she still smiled when he turned around to look at her. Today she had a pack of cigarettes rolled up in her sleeve, a stray tucked behind her ear. Nothing out of the ordinary. Just some more dirt. "You...need something?" It was hard to not sound like a huge asshole when he felt awkward.

"Just wanted to say hi," she shrugged. "Feels like I haven't seen you in forever. Want to stop by later? You can help me in Jas' pumpkin patch."

"No," he focused on the cans instead, trying to avoid her eyes. It only made it worse. Lucky would be better off leaving him alone. He was just working up the courage to off himself, anyway.

"...Oh, okay. No problem. What's your favorite dessert?" Shane bit the inside of his cheek, willing her away before he had to be meaner about it. "I don't like sweets," he managed, brushing past her to get the next case.

Lucky sighed but he still didn't look at her. Couldn't. "Okay, have a good day." And just like that, she was gone. Left him alone just like he wanted. The door dinged and he figured that was that.

"You have to track _all_ the dirt in?"

"Not like I _want_ you on my heels." Shane looked through the shelves again, watching Lucky and Alex in each other's way. The automatic door hung open behind Alex but he was fine making it a stand-off. He made Lucky look small, but that was the type of thing that only encouraged her. "You really aren't as clever as you think you are, tryhard."

It was stupid to say he was surprised, but he really was. Shane hadn't ever heard something like that come out of Alex's mouth. Sure, he was condescending and a bigger gossip than Haley, but Alex's problem with Lucky seemed personal.

For once, Shane was happy to hear Sam's quick mouth cut in. "I don't know if you wanna go around here judging 'clever', man. Got too many knocks to the head for that." He stayed behind his register and tapped his forehead, grinning but obviously ticked off. Which made sense. He and Lucky were friends, after all. That must have been why Shane's knuckles were white, too. 

He was angry for her. No matter how much bullshit he spouted off to himself about them both being better off alone, he couldn't help but contradict himself at the first opportunity. He wanted to help her. Support her. Be the kind of friend Sam was.

"Fuck off, Sam. I wasn't talking to you."

Lucky's voice was even as she slipped past Alex, but Shane caught the cheeky wink and nod goodbye she threw Sam over her shoulder. _Don't worry about it. See you later._ "I think he was just surprised you comprehended language. We didn't know they were teaching that to gorillas already." Lucky looked Alex in the eyes the whole time she said it, and some of the tension left Shane's shoulders. Well...Lucky could handle herself.

Sam laughed until Morris appeared out of the back room, barking his name. He rolled his eyes at his usual lecture about professionalism. The same one he had gotten about his earrings, and then his rings, and then his listening to music when no one was in the store. Alex stalked off and Shane caught himself smiling as he watched him slink to the chips and back to the front. It was hard to take his anger seriously with the Joja jingles happily chiming about 'JojaMart fresh and cheap' over it.

__________

 

Shane skipped his usual pilgrimage to the Stardrop that night, wanting some quiet time to think instead. He still brought a six-pack, of course, but that would be between him and the trees.

When he saw Lucky on the dock he almost turned around, committing himself to drinking alone and keeping her at a comfortable distance. It was dark already, just the rush of wind and chirp of crickets. She had some old-timey lantern with her, a cigarette dangling between her fingers with smoke lazily rising from it.

But he stopped himself. Watched for a long time and debated himself and his guilt. No matter how much energy he wasted pushing her away, he already cared about the farmer. He had proved that earlier. If she could stand him with his iciness and self-loathing before, she could now, too. And was it selfish? Hell yeah it was. But it felt nice.

He felt...good getting to talk to Lucky, when she glanced over her shoulder at the sound of him approaching and waved like he was a normal person, it helped him _feel_ a little more normal. When he eventually found the guts to not be around anymore, he'd include her in his list of apologies.

"You look like a witch with that lantern," he said, settling down beside her.

Lucky smiled, taking another drag off her cigarette. "I wish. Seems that would make life easier." She blew her smoke out over the lake, shrugging. "Don't have a magical bone in my body, though." 

"All the Wizard ever uses his magic for seems pretty lame, anyway." He pulled a beer out of the pack, offering it to her. Shane never shared beer with _anyone_. She thanked him, cracking it open as he got himself one, too.

"Think I'd curse too many people. You get a power like that, you think it can fix all your problems. Start forgetting that's just you," Lucky mused, running a hand through her hair. Something about that hit too close to home for Shane, so he didn't ask about it even though he was curious. Only agreed.

"Yeah, we'd probably be minus one dumb jock in this town."

Lucky laughed, buttoning the top of her pea coat against the chill that came off the water. Shane just relied on the alcohol to keep him warm. "You'd think I'd done something to him," she said, shaking her head.

Shane raised an eyebrow. "You mean nothing happened?"

"I was talking to his grandmother..?"

"And?" There had to be something else.

"Anddd she invited me over for dinner?" Lucky sounded like she didn't know where this was going. She shrugged, taking her first sip of his beer and making a face. She downed it quickly instead, shaking her head. "That shit's vile," she coughed. Shane laughed.

Yeah, what he drank when he figured he'd be alone could hardly be considered 'smooth'. It was the cheapest stuff he could get his hands on that still got him wasted. That was all he really cared about. "Fast drinker, huh? Woman after my own heart," he chuckled.

"I'm just too polite to hand you back warm beer."

Shane felt his lips quirk, glancing up at the moon over the lake. "I'm almost disappointed there wasn't some kind of knockdown drag out at this dinner. _Something_ needs to happen in this damn town."

"I didn't even get to go. Threw out my shoulder instead and spent it with Harvey."

Shane's gaze shifted down to the lake, and his own reflection in it. Beside him Lucky looked at ease, hair free and tumbling down the side of her neck while she leaned against the piling. Shane looked at himself and saw the same lazy, out of shape stranger he dreaded. Even on a dock at night, with the wind through the trees and the moon almost close enough to touch, he felt more like he was looking at a photograph than living in it.

"I've missed talking with you." He looked up at Lucky, at a complete loss for words. She hadn't really said that, right?

"Don't look so surprised," she chuckled, the cherry of her cigarette drained closer to her lips the longer they talked. "We're friends, aren't we?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here we are, chapter 5! Thanks for reading thus far and doubly so for your lovely comments! Chapter 6 ought to be out tomorrow. ;)


	6. Mosaic

When Lucky invited him over, the shine in her eyes made him suspicious. Not like he hated for her to be happy or something, but it didn't take a genius to figure out something was up when she threw around words like "prepare to be social".

To Shane that meant "prepare to stand at least five feet away from where people are having a great time and wonder why you aren't having a great time", but when she said she also wanted him to check out her newly repaired chicken coop, Shane found himself mumbling something that sounded suspiciously like an agreement.

The last thing he expected was to be sat at her small, tilting dining table with Lucky on one side and Sam on the other, Sebastian squeezed in between the two across from him. Some game sat on the table—a bunch of rule books and guides piled beside Sebastian and little figurines on a map. Shane glanced at Lucky. "Are you trying to get me to play Solarion or whatever?"

She brightened. "Close, and I'm impressed you knew what that was in the first place! No, this is no ordinary game. This will decide your fate."

She brandished one of the books cheekily and Shane raised an eyebrow. That was coming on strong, even for the farmer. "What do you mean?"

She flashed a wolfish grin, only made worse by the ferocity of her eyeliner. Sometimes Lucky really did look like an evil witch. A fashionable witch, but still. "This game was set up just for this occasion: I have a deal for you. If I win, you have to go to the fair with me and Jas this year."

Shane grimaced just at the thought, but he should have seen it coming. Jas had been nagging him extra hard about the Valley Festival this year, emboldened by Lucky. So of _course_ when he blew her off like usual she ran to Lucky to fix it. Probably cried. He sighed, weighing his hatred of the fair with his love of his goddaughter.

People really had a point about him. Why should the only guy in town who hated 'fun' be raising a kid?

Meeting Lucky's eyes again, he thought he caught of flash of genuine emotion behind their shine. This wasn't a game for Lucky.

It was a plead for Jas.

Shane swallowed the lump in his throat, just Sam and Sebastian being there making everything feel _off_. "Fine. What if I win?"

"I never mention it again and take Jas myself to eat all the cotton candy and popcorn she can stomach."

 

An hour later and Shane actually won the game. He fucking _won_. He couldn't remember the last time he won anything.

Sebastian rambled something about dice and beginner's luck and that it was fair and square and that was that. He didn't have to go.

They spent the rest of the afternoon drinking and talking and Sebastian and Sam were used enough to him by now that they joked around like he assumed they always did when they huddled together outside Sam's house or at any of the town parties. He was surprised by how much Sebastian, who always struck him as the quiet type, made Lucky laugh.

But it wasn't a bad time. He got to throw in comments here and there without being expected to contribute anything mindblowing. Sam and Lucky mostly bounced back and forth, driving the conversation from tabletop games to skateboards to their trip to Zuzu after Spirit's Eve. Sam asked him if he ever considered getting anything pierced, and Shane waved him off with a no and took another sip of beer, but truthfully he'd toyed with the idea of getting his eyebrow pierced in high school just to see his mom's face afterwards. A gridball captain with a face piercing? His mom would have had a stroke.

When the morning came that Marnie went off to help set up the Valley Festival, Shane woke up at five and stayed up, drinking beer on the porch and staring at the monolith of a ferris wheel they had set up in the town square.

Truthfully it wasn't that huge, but in the rising red glare of the sun, it looked like much more than the waste of space it was. They tested the lights and it twinkled in a way that made him think of being a child again. Enjoying things. Craning his head up to stare at games and fireworks and rides and the smiling faces of his parents.

Jas didn't have that. Hadn't had that since Eric and Natalie died. She hung around Lucky instead, looking for twinkling lights where he only saw headaches. And he let it happen.

Let himself drift away from even her—the one person in the world he always promised to look out for. So he cracked a beer and cried. And another. And another. Until he felt human enough to face a crowd of judging eyes and lead Jas along by the hand like she always wanted. To be the _person_ she always wanted.

He'd never forget the smile on her face when she saw him waiting for her at the table, ready to go meet Lucky. She squealed like he had gotten her a pony, and collapsed into a pile of giggles as soon as she hugged him.

He was careful not to let her close enough to smell the alcohol on his breath.

Lucky knew as soon as she looked at him, and her expression was worlds away from Jas'. He recognized the disappointment in her eyes, but she threw on a grin as soon as Jas called her name and leaned down to let herself be engulfed in a hug. "I'm happy to see both of you," she said, catching his eyes as she stood.

Lucky almost didn't look like herself when she frowned.

But he played all the games with Jas, lifted her up to the slingshot targets, used his candy apple to duel her on their fifteenth snack break, and didn't think much about what other people thought. Except for Lucky.

He kept finding himself searching for words to tell her he was fine. That she didn't have anything to worry about and to just be happy like normal. But every time he tried he found himself just staring at her instead, lost in the clouded concern in her eyes even Sam and Sebastian showing up didn't get rid of.

On the ferris wheel, the guilt that pooled in his stomach overwhelmed even Jas' awe and grounding grip on his jacket. Her eyes were as bright as the lights as she looked at him, giggling like she did in the morning. "Lucky really _is_ a powerful witch, you know! I wished in her pumpkin garden that you'd come to the fair this time."

Shane managed a smile, mussing Jas' hair and wishing she had said anything but that. He relied on his liquid courage to glance over at Lucky again, and his heart dragged him down like a stone.

Lucky, pink streaking the sky behind her, looked out over the Valley and wiped away the tear trailing down her cheek before Jas caught it.

Jas was young enough that she couldn't see through him yet. Saw a glass mosaic where everyone else knew it was just broken bottles. Lucky knew better.

Shane couldn't ever do anything right.


	7. First and Last

Shane never got mail. When he woke up to a letter under his door, he wondered what kind of bill came in a handwritten envelope. Ripping it open, he had to read it twice to make sure his bleary eyes weren't playing tricks on him.

_'Shane, I'm having a small party to celebrate my corn maze for Spirit's Eve this year. Please come. I know you don't like hanging out with other people, but it'll really be fun, and it's a hell of a lot better than drinking alone, right? 8pm, my place, Friday. -Lucky'_

She had drawn a jack-o'-lantern at the bottom, her name signed in a fast hand beside it. How dorky. He placed the letter on his table, propping it up against his lamp so the drawing was visible. 

Friday night he actually put on something other than his usual JojaMart jacket and undershirt for a change. Digging through his closet, Shane chose jeans and a t-shirt he actually _liked_ wearing, chancing a glance in the mirror. God, who was he nowadays? He looked...old. Old as hell for only staring down his thirtieth in spring.

But in his own clothes, he looked more like himself. Like the guy he was back when he played varsity and got excited about things. It was easy to feel like he didn't know that guy most of the time.

He pulled out two six-packs from under his bed, promising himself he wouldn't drink too much. No, not after the fair. He was still falling asleep thinking about the ferris wheel.

The walk to Lucky's was familiar now, even in the dark. Abigail and Sebastian were already there, sitting on the porch with Lucky and talking about the crops. Being waved over cheerily still felt weird. He mostly gave curt nods to his neighbors.

"Three down, one to go!" Abigail declared, already a little drunk. Lucky scooted over so he could take up his usual spot beside her.

"Thanks for coming. I'll admit I'm surprised you actually showed," she smiled, her eyes reading him in that quick, polite way that said her concern hadn't left. She knew now. He had crossed that line in one bound and all of a sudden he wasn't a social drinker to her anymore. He was someone who needed to drink to be social.

"Me, too," he deadpanned, getting a laugh out of her.

"Thanks for the beer, too. What a polite guest." She took a pack, freeing a can and passing it down to Sebastian. Part of him wondered if she was just happy to get it away from him. Gesturing to the massive cornfield in front of them, she asked, "Isn't that a great sight? I never thought I'd be proud of corn."

"You've done a lot," he replied, cracking open a beer for himself. They clinked their cans together, taking first sips. Lucky's eyes met his over the can. _Are you okay?_ He smiled. _Fine._ Shane didn't need help--he had accepted a long time ago that he was just one of those people that would always be dragged along by the current. Trying to grab onto rocks and logs at the bottom only scraped up your hands, anyway. Slowed the inevitable drowning.

He was just counting down his days, after all.

They all worked on setting up the fire pit, laughing when Sebastian placed his first stick and the whole thing collapsed. Afterwards it was a game to see who could pile the most on without ruining it. Shane, unsurprisingly, was not the winner.

After a few beers and (finally) a campfire, Sam showed up bearing alcohol and apologies. "Vincent caught me up and said he wanted to come with. I had to talk him out of it so we could actually have some fun," he snickered, cheerily waving the bottle of wine he brought.

After Abigail had the bright idea to roast marshmallows, they all found sticks and proceeded to set theirs on fire above the open flame. It kind of tasted like wood, but he found he didn't care very much. Not when Lucky sat beside him with one leg stretched out, half-drunk and _very_ carefully browning hers to perfection.

After that, Sam goaded them all into a game of hide and seek in the maze, saying it was the perfect opportunity and they were chickens if they said no. Shane was the correct amount of drunk for that to sound fun.

They fanned out, each picking different directions and running. Sam was fast as hell, and in the time it took for Shane to reach his first dead end the rustling of corn and happy shrieking of Abigail told him they had a new chaser. 

The maze was great, with corn so tall no matter how much you jumped you couldn't see over it and making sure you immediately got lost.

After he caught his breath and the rustling didn't come any closer to him, Shane decided to cut through just for the fun of it. It was like being eaten by a large, cold animal with the dew on the stalks and how it engulfed you into the dark on all sides.

It was a struggle to free himself until it spit him back out at the end and into the unsuspecting someone he knew instantly. Lucky yelled, taken down with him, but it turned into laughter as soon as she realized what had happened. 

He pushed himself up to get his bearings, losing himself just as quickly when he caught her eyes. Shane had never realized how deep green they were before, even in the low light of the maze.

Just like that he was frozen, staring like he had never seen her before. It made his heart jump around in his chest in a way he hated. Words struggled to come to him. Sorry--for the fall, the fair, for what he was still hiding from her. For what he planned to do to himself.

He swallowed, pushing himself up by his shaking hands and sitting upright again. Helping her sit up, too. Her cheeks were red--from the alcohol or the fall he didn't know--but she still asked him if he was okay. Of course she did. Rubbing his neck, he didn't know how to answer that question.

"It's okay to say no, you know." Lucky eased herself to her feet, offering out her hand to him. "You can always just tell me no. Even 'fuck off, no'." She laughed a little.

He took her hand, surprised at how cold it was and the strength behind it that helped him to his feet. "I'm sorry," was all he managed, ducking her gaze.

She shrugged. "Nothing to be sorry about. I'm just worried about you. I know you don't like to share a lot but...you can always talk to me."

The alcohol couldn't numb the thought circling around in his head. _You're going to hurt her, too._

So Shane did the only thing that felt right. He hugged her, wondering in the back of his mind if it would be the first and last time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! Very excited for the next few chapters and, as always, let me know what you think!
> 
> Favorite part? Question? Ideas for something you wanna see? All welcome! <3


	8. Personal Raincloud

Something about Spirit's Eve creeping closer made Shane feel a little lighter. It was probably because Lucky was so excited for it.

She had managed to rope herself into helping designing the maze's "horrors" and bounced back and forth between the farm, Sebastian's house, and the magician's tower all the time now that her corn had been harvested. She had so much that everyone in town was eating it—Gus even made corn chowder the special at the Stardrop.

Pierre bought as much as he could get his hands on to turn a profit shipping it out to Zuzu, and Shane noticed the farmer had finally bought a proper sunhat. It looked odd on her, actually. Cheerfully yellow with a red ribbon.

She talked a lot about buying chickens from Marnie and Sam talked a lot more about their trip into the city. He'd added a lot of new stuff to their itinerary now that her gamble had paid off.

Lucky couldn't hide her excitement. Even for the "Great Stardew Pumpkin Carving-Stravaganza", held at her house with the fruits—or vegetables, whatever—of Jas' fairy garden and Lucky's labor. Her notepad was still beside her, crammed with sketches of spiders and devils and whatever other maze idea she spitballed with Sebastian in his basement.

She even asked Shane for ideas, and laughed when he replied "A mirror." Still wrote it down, just for him. Though he seemed to remember hearing her mumur "smartass" as she did.

The Great Stardew Pumpkin Carving-Stravaganza was an odd combination of Shane's family and Lucky's friends, all invited over to scoop out warm pumpkin guts and drink cider.

It ended up quite the party for Lucky's little house. Everyone shoved pumpkins where they would fit, dragging a ragtag assortment of chairs and tables and nightstands together to form what Lucky proudly declared a Frankenstein's Round Table and what Sam cheerily raised his cider to and shouted "here here".

Jas giggled and replied "here here" to things for a week afterwards.

Lucky was between Abigail and Sebastian, but still made sure to drag him into their life and death debates over who was the best pumpkin carver. Shane didn't mind. It was hard to ruin her fun, even for the guy toting around his own personal raincloud.

Every time he visited it felt like she had new decorations up. Purple string lights ran along the walls and cobwebs smothered her bookshelves, plastic skeletons on the walls and tombstones in her yard. The best was definitely the bats, though. Hung from the ceiling, glittery black and life-sized. Shane didn't even want to know where she got those.

Shane noticed her fridge was full of pies when he went to get a drink, too—like, ridiculously full, with dishes stacked on top of one another and covered in foil or half-eaten. It reminded him of her conversation at JojaMart he had eavesdropped on. Some plan of Lucky's to make dessert for everyone. Of course.

It made him feel better he had blown her off, since she was clearly already spreading herself thin. And for what? He closed the fridge and popped open one of those Joja energy drinks Lucky always had, grimacing. It tasted like battery acid mixed with cough syrup.

He'd stick to beer, no matter what his liver had to say about it.

Still, it got him wondering about the same questions that _always_ bothered him about Lucky and that he was still afraid to ask. Was there a nice way to ask someone who called you their friend how in the fuck they managed to do so much? Why they'd let their fridge get taken over by sweets for their neighbors all because of some dumb holiday? How they managed to work and plan community crap and entertain Jas and bake and somehow still managed to make time for _his_ sorry ass?

It sounded exhausting.

Carving pumpkins was as thrilling as anything else in his life, so he carved until he knew Lucky and Marnie would be satisfied and watched Jas create some kitten-pumpkin monstrosity she stuck a bow on top of. When quizzed, he said that was his favorite part. He also said his pumpkin wasn't supposed to look like anything. 

Jas stared at it, tilting her head a little. "It looks sad." Shane took another look. It did. Jas stuck her bow on it and declared it all better, and her favorite jack-o-lantern of them all. He smiled despite himself.

When Lucky switched from fierce competitor to winner (her headless horseman just barely edged out Abigail's haunted house) she was content to pass out the cider and started making the rounds with whipped cream and cinnamon at the ready.

She did a double take at his pumpkin, one corner of her mouth quirking up. "So, you uh...have quite the beauty there," she said, handing him a glass. "Whipped cream or cinnamon?" She shook both his direction.

"No thanks, and it's a self-portrait. Obviously," he deadpanned, just waiting for that smile to creep wider.

She bit her lip, a wolfish grin threatening her neutral facade. When Lucky leaned closer, just barely lifting up his scratchy chin to examine him, he was afraid to even breathe until she suddenly leaned back, framing his face and replying cheekily, "I can see it."

She laughed at her own joke and then she was off, chatting with aunt Marnie and doctor Harvey and leaving Shane with steaming cider and a feeling he didn't want to remember. He was a fuck-up and that was all he was _ever_ going to be.

It shouldn't matter to him that Sebastian laughed at all of Lucky's jokes, or that when he was talking about some computer game he accidentally brushed his hand against hers and turned pink. And it didn't. It really didn't. Shane drank his cider and played with Jas, hardly looking over. Their dynamic wasn't his business.

It didn't concern him. Not even when he slunk out early, or stopped by JojaMart to grab another case.

Not even when he stopped by the cliffs.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, we've got a short soft little chapter here with some new feelings and Spirit's Eve coming up next...  
> On Lucky's favorite holiday things get a lot more serious on Shane's end. See you then! :)


	9. Rhubarb

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is part 1 of what became a huge Spirit's Eve chapter; the second half will be posted shortly! Happy halloween and I hope you enjoy <3

Shane started out the night sober.

Well, sober for him. Functioning. That was all that could be asked of him, right? He had finally talked himself into going by rationalizing that he wanted to see Jas being able to enjoy Spirit's Eve like Lucky did at least once; to tell ghost stories and marvel at the skeletons and see who could eat more candy when they thought no one was looking.

Then, maybe he would be content. Maybe the guilt about offing himself would be lessened when he could say Jas had someone else looking out for her--someone that made everything fun and would be there for her when things were scary. A replacement better than he would ever be.

Maybe Spirit's Eve really could be his last holiday.

The town square was lit entirely by lanterns, all the candy and desserts spread out on an ugly tablecloth and rickety table that Jas made a beeline for.

Lucky and Sam were there with the fake spiderwebs, spooning banana pudding into bowls and talking (their favorite hobby) and didn't notice her until she was right on top of them.

Lucky jumped out of her skin when Jas trapped her in the vice of one of her bear hugs, devolving into a puddle of laughter before Sam could even start to make fun of her.

Bright red, she puffed out a "good job, kiddo" and scanned the dim square behind her. Before Jas even said anything, the farmer had found him. Her grin shined again and he plodded closer, stuffing his hands in his jacket and wondering where Sebastian was.

"I was worried you two wouldn't show. Miss Marnie's been chatting with the mayor for a half hour already," she teased.

"My wing fell off!" Jas answered earnestly, showing off the hotglued sparkly purple... _thing_ he had been one burn away from duct taping back together.

"All fairies have their rough days." Lucky said condolingly, knowing it would get Jas asking about her pumpkin fairies. Like that wasn't a conversation he hadn't heard a million times already. It was a bunch of made up gossip about the fancy fae that Jas treated like her own backyard soap opera. All affairs and backstabbery only Lucky could dream up on the fly.

In the mean time Sam said hello, waving a spoon full of banana pudding Shane's direction. "Good to see you, man. Want some?" He had a pair of devil horns on that matched Lucky's, shamelessly cheap and sparkly. How fitting. 

"No." Shane paused, uncomfortable under Sam's friendly stare. "...Thanks, though. I don't like sweets."

"Oh, right! Luck totally told me that but I forgot." He dug in his pocket for something that crinkled a lot, pulling it out and dropping it in his hand. "They're Gotoran. Really, _really_ spicy. Might be more your speed."

Shane felt a mild pang of guilt for always blowing Sam off. He was a nice guy, even if he had to flick himself with rubber bands to remember to close Joja at the end of the day. Or count his cash. Or lock the door. He was just a loud, human goldfish, really, but Shane wasn't exactly a catch, either.

"You like the horns? Abby said Lucky and I had earned them." Sam showed them off, giving the appropriate smirk to match. "Seb's gonna laugh his ass off when he sees us."

Glancing over at Lucky again only made him feel dirtier. Her boots were shined, a black sweater and punky orange tartan pants Spirit's Eveish and fashionable. Shane was in a wrinkled flannel he had thrown on his chair weeks ago and forgotten about.

The devil horns on her head were useless--this season's equivalent of a lei--but somehow his knees got a little weaker looking at her. As if sensing his vulnerability, Lucky turned just in time to catch him staring and brightened, searching the table for a slice of pie she handed to...him? Despite the constant mental chastising not to get his hopes up, Shane's chest still deflated. She had forgotten. "I don't like-" 

"Sweets. I know, but try this. I called in a favor with Miss Evelyn."

He stabbed a piece, hating the sensation of so many eyes on him. It wasn't sweet. It was nice. Bitter, actually, and Shane knew what it was immediately. "You made...rhubarb pie?"

"Just for you!" Sam chimed in, leaning over to prop his elbow on her shoulder. Lucky stuttered a bunch about how anyone could have some, but Shane was still three steps behind.

"Do you like it?" The subtle lift in her shoulders tipped her hand. Sam wasn't kidding, she really _had_ made it for him. All because he was an asshole who refused to name a dessert he liked.

"Yeah, it's great," he mumbled, resisting the urge to take a step back. And then another. And then one after the other until he didn't have to look at this stupidly hopeful farmer who cared way too much about someone who was just going to disappoint her in the end.

Some time while he had been staring like an idiot at rhubarb pie and Lucky's ridiculously green eyes, Vincent had started on Jas about being a scaredy cat again. It was the same script as every Spirit's Eve, but this year Jas had her fairy wand to threaten cursing him with. 

Vincent knew every button to push, and he'd do anything to seem cooler than she was. Including talking about the new corn maze. _Lucky's_ new corn maze. She cut in before Vincent could finish, raising an eyebrow and asking, "If you're excited, then why don't we go?" 

The grin on her face as she popped a piece of candy corn in her mouth was apparently all Jas needed.

_____

 

Jas had never looked so confident. She still clung to Lucky's sleeve, of course, but only when Vincent wasn't looking. She was standing strong after they rounded the first corner and a TV sat at the end playing snow and even after the first dead end's spider drop from above. 

Shane knew from experience how afraid of a fuzzy little arachnid Jas was. He had caught way, way too many daddy long legs late at night with her nervously rambling about how massive they were and fluttering over his shoulder insisting he didn't kill them at the same time. All the glasses in their house had been tainted, as far as he was concerned. 

Shane may have been a college dropout, but he noticed the way Lucky squeezed Jas' hand just before each scare and could figure out exactly why Jas was handling the maze so well. A little...insider help, really.

Vincent, though? That kid was on his own. Sam had said he was going to find Abigail instead and his little brother really quieted down after a ragged hand thrust it's way out of the dirt in front of a tombstone and he _squeaked_.

It only served him right. Jas finally got to say she was the brave one, and her teasing turned the kid's face bright red. Shane smiled over the rim of his cup -- it was rough for Vincent, but he had all but begged for it. Anything to impress Jas.

Still, Lucky's maze really was a hell of an improvement and the wind whistling through the brittle corn was unsettling whether the scares got you or not. Jas getting to feel powerful was really the cherry on top, but Shane wasn't about to kid himself about the guilt it hammered into his head with each step.

Lucky was great. Fantastic, even. That was the problem. Everything he struggled to do she did as easily as breathing. It was a reflex for her.

Eric would be happy with Lucky being Jas' guardian, right? She liked the same weirdo video games he was always wearing shirts of, and Shane could imagine them meeting in Zuzu and becoming great pals. They were both unrelentingly sunny jerks, always ready with a joke about something.

Between her and Marnie, Jas could probably actually grow up without being a huge fuck-up. Who was he kidding ever thinking Jas needed someone as worthless as him, anyway? He was just as lost without Eric.

The transition would be seamless. It all made sense. Shane would kill himself and Lucky could swoop in and Jas' life would be better. Done. Easy as that. Sure, she would be sad for a little while. He hated the thought of taking another relative from her, but after a few months he wouldn't cross her mind until she heard the clink of an empty beer bottle against the floor.

He'd never given her those good memories--not like the home movies he watched late at night when missing Eric moved from his only hobby to his reason for being. The ones with Eric and Natalie teaching her how to play piano or helping her decorate her fifth birthday cake. Back when "Uncle Shane" dropped by when he had the time in between his job and his girlfriend and the varsity team.

Before Eric died and all his promises to himself about finishing college and going to physical therapy ended because he was too busy shoving microwaved pepper poppers down his throat and waking up every morning wishing things had been different. Knowing it should have been him. 

Shane needed Jas more than she needed him. 

The sweetness masked the burn of the drink, and what had started out as reminders to take small sips turned into something he needed for himself. He didn't care about anything except the stupid tears threatening his eyes.

The devil that jumped out of the corn didn't even startle him until Jas screamed, ripping away from Lucky and crashing into him.

Sam's muffled apologies came from behind the mask as his god daughter buried her face in his shirt, trying to control the shaking that had overtaken her small frame. Shane left the bitching in Lucky's capable and colorful hands, focusing on Jas and comforting her as soon as his surprise faded.

The relief that came with it was a surprise. Why did it make him happy to have a kid snivelling in his arms? That wasn't exactly his idea of a good time, especially when he was on his way to drunk already.

He caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror in front of them--the mirror Lucky must've put in just for him. For once--for one relieving, painful second--he didn't hate what he saw. He was scraggly and ugly and out of shape, but none of that mattered when he was standing over Jas. She didn't care about any of those things, she was just happy he was there. Her only requirement was for him to show up and she'd still look at him like he was worth something.

The thought of losing that scared him, no matter how much he tried to convince himself it didn't. He hugged her tighter, petting her hair and crowing about how brave she was. Trying to stop the tears that welled in his eyes.

Eric left Jas with him because he believed in him...as funny as that sounded now.

Shane looked up into the mirror again, past him and his rugrat, and watched Lucky wrestle Sam into a headlock and fluff his hair. It was eerie, almost. He could see himself doing it to Eric again, even when he got taller than he was. The same yells of laughter and halfhearted insults and slaps.

"Thanks, uncle Shane." Jas pulled away, rubbing at her red face and dragging his eyes back to the only child. The one who never knew what it was like to get a noogie. "He just scared me, is all." She let out a shaky breath, and even though he could see the wetness in her eyes the smile she gave him was a real one.

"It was kinda fun, actually." He rubbed her back, standing again and returning her smile.

"Good to hear that. You're braver than I am." He mussed up her hair, shrugging as she laughed and fussed at him in her squeaky voice, fingers fiddling to redo her fairy bow.

"What was that for?!"

"'Cause I love you, squirt."


	10. Whole Fucking Universe

He should've gone home. Should've known not to push his luck. Another hour, another beer--Shane never knew when to call it quits.

When Lucky pulled him aside and talked about the "seance" Abigail was going to do before midnight, after everyone else had gone home, he nodded along dumbly just because Lucky would be there. He didn't believe in ghosts. Wouldn't care about them if they even did exist, really, but after he tucked Jas in and waited for Marnie to go to bed the feeling in his chest almost made him sick.

His heart thrummed as he pulled his sneakers on, giving up after his third attempt to lace them and shoving the ends in his shoes. When he opened his window, the crisp night air made breathing easier.

There was a certain thrill to swinging a leg out, clutching onto the frame for dear life, and stumbling out into the pile of leaves outside. He was a grown man, why bother with even "sneaking out"? Why waste his time with some ghost bullshit when the only thing out there was the bitter cold and disappointment? 

Because he could see that dimple on her left cheek when she laughed and the way she'd run her fingers through her hair. Because Shane was _excited_. He was more than happy to ignore what it took to get there, even if he had to screw his eyes shut to keep the rhubarb pie down.

He didn't listen to the voice in the back of his head that said he wasn't social drunk anymore. He was rainy day drunk.

_____

Abigail had a bunch of crystals laid out on the ground with shit written in chalk--stars and circles he couldn't make sense of no matter how many times he asked her about them. Lucky was much more succinct: "It's a gate to the other side."

Abigail's set-up was painful, with a lot of staring at some book and drawing and redrawing lines while the rest of them drank and gave up helping after she got esoteric about her instructions again.

Sebastian shared his beer with Lucky and before long they were sitting on the same crate, not obscenely close but too comfortable for people sitting on something that wasn't a seat in the first place. Lucky leaned against him, teasing him until his face turned red and then chipperly wandering off on another topic for them all to discuss.

Shane thought they looked good together; all black and eyeliner and references to books he hadn't read or games he hadn't played. It made sense, so he stuffed down the rising emotion in his guts and knocked back another beer instead. 

Couldn't he just be happy for other people's happiness for once, like a fucking _normal person_?

Words became harder to find, concepts farther off, his focus narrowing to Lucky and just about nothing else. They went ghost hunting at something called the witching hour, and he tripped over a joke about Lucky's witch status that he had to explain three times for her to be able to understand him.

She offered to walk him home. Like she knew better than he did what he was about to ruin. That he was going to go down in smoke and flame and drunken mistakes. But he was too busy convincing himself the idea of Sebastian cuddling up to her didn't bother him, that two of the people that actually acknowledged his existence anywhere besides at the end of a bar had a right to do what they wanted without him proving what a jackass he was. How stupid. 

Instead he staggered after her like a puppy on a leash in hunt of things he knew didn't exist as much as he knew he'd never be happy again. He didn't deserve to be. But talking about rhubarb pie became telling her he thought she did a great job on the maze and then his hands were shoved in his pockets and Shane was admitting he was lost.

"I don't get it. The pies, the pumpkin patch, the...corn an' the stuff in it. I can barely get out of bed."

Lucky smiled, stopping to humor him and shrugging in that way only she didn't look condescending doing. "It's like I said at the luau. You find the things that make you happy and hang onto them for dear life. Leis and pumpkin carving and spending time with people I care about are all what make it worth it to me."

He finally admitted it to her. Said the words he thought all the time out loud. Words that sounded a lot like "I don't want to live any more."

The silence was deafening. He didn't even have the energy to be emotional about it, and Lucky's expression of surprise faded into a resigned kind of sadness. She just took a deep breath and hugged him. Really, _really_ hugged him, and it wasn't something he knew he wanted until her arms were wrapped around him. 

Shane couldn't remember a time he had needed someone this much. Needed to lay his head on their shoulder and smell the pumpkin spice nonsense of their shampoo and feel their heart beat to remind himself he wasn't alone in the whole fucking universe.

Lucky was so beautiful. So, _so_ beautiful and he was drunk and weak...he didn't have any right to lean in to kiss her. But he did. Like he was Shane from four years ago and not the pathetic waste of space he was now. 

Lucky jerked back doe eyed, started to stammer something he didn't hear and grabbed at his jacket as his heart seized up and he turned to go. Wanted to leave. Leave his lifetime of mistake after mistake.

He yanked himself free, Lucky's words all running together in his panic. Fuck. Out of all the things he could've done to her, to himself...

In his stupor, he was no match for the maze. He crashed from path to path, vomit threatening to creep up his throat. Then he found the mirror and before his digust sent another wave of self-loathing through him he had taken his hand and smashed it.

Shane never knew when to call it quits.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, here we go: self-sabotage and shitty drunken decisions 101! Hope you enjoyed and thanks for sticking with it up 'til now. The next chapter is actually already written so I'll be posting it in the next few days to buffer out my postings a bit.
> 
> I'd love to know your thoughts on poor rejected Shane and thanks for reading! <3


	11. The Beast

For a long time, all he heard was the rain. Marnie had come in and rolled him over and Shane stared at the wall for hours. His arms were lead, and any question of seeing Lucky for their usual ritual was gone. In fact, seeing her ever _again_ was something he'd avoid at any cost.

No matter how long he kicked himself over it, flexing his cut up hand and trying to come up with some intelligent combination of words to explain himself, it was a lost cause. He was barely conscious. No matter how much he drank he still couldn't stand mixing his liquors. 

Jas knocked and her airy voice overtook the wind and the insults howling in his head. "Shouldn't we go see Lucky today? She'll miss us."

He groaned, letting himself roll onto his stomach and gripping the rug trapped underneath him. Just the thought made him sick. "No, Jas, I don't feel good."

It was true. He felt like shit. He just _always_ felt like shit, and today was particularly awful. "She won't miss me, anyway." He mumbled it into the carpet, knowing she wouldn't hear it. Pathetic.

"Are you sure? Should I get Aunt Marnie?"

"No, really. I just need to-" he fought the sudden urge to vomit, screwing his eyes shut and focusing on the crash of thunder outside. "I'm fine."

Jas knew he wasn't sick. Not like other people got sick, anyway. She was a kid, but she was a bright one. He hated it when she knew he was drunk. Just proved what a waste of space he was.

But that was nothing new, either.

After a while he could tell he was alone again, and bitched at himself for laying on the floor surrounded by cans like a shameful alcoholic. He _was_ a shameful alcoholic. Hell, who was he even kidding trying to act normal most of the time? He was too weak to change and too cowardly to end it all and make everyone's lives that much better. The best he could manage was numb.

He couldn't tell how long it took until the next knock, but it was a lot stronger than the first. Aunt Marnie and not Jas. "No," he groaned, wondering how much of it was a command and how much of it was a plea. Was it that hard to be left alone?

The door's slow creaking told him he was ignored, but he didn't bother opening his eyes again. She'd tell him what she wanted. Probably fuss at him for worrying Jas, too. "Guess I was right to be worried."

That wasn't Marnie's voice. Anxiety seized him as soon as he heard Lucky, and the crushing feeling that surrounded him became ten times heavier. Oh, Yoba. Why not? Why wouldn't she be the one to see him like this? Shane opened his eyes, readjusting to the way the world shifted when he turned to look at her under the glare of his ceiling light. She wasn't smiling, and beads of rain still trailed off her drooping shoulders.

"I'm fine. Go home."

Every second she stayed it sunk into his blood that she would never look at him the same way again. Lucky would distance herself because she wasn't stupid like he was and he'd have to stop playing at being a normal person again.

No more shared beers, no more late night conversation, no more sparkling laughs and the relaxed way she shared his space.

It would be different. Worse. He had fucking ruined _everything_.

"Go home!" He growled, dragging himself up into a sitting position. The heat felt clammy on his face.

"How can I help?" She dropped to her knees to match him, the sincerity in her eyes only making him angrier. Making the pit of shame in his stomach stronger.

She was bright green and he was gray. He would _always_ be gray. There was no use having her around to give him hope. No reason to share the pain that would never leave.

"You can't. You think if it was that easy I'd be here like this? Go home and stay there." He spit it at her like she had done something.

Lucky looked like she didn't know what to say for once. But she didn't leave. When she finally spoke again, her eyes avoided his glare. "So you can lay here alone again?"

"I like being alone."

"No you don't."

He hated that she was right. "Why are you so pushy? I said leave!"

"I can't, Shane."

"I don't want to talk to you!"

"I'm not asking you to."

He was losing it. Spiraling. Wanting her anywhere but here. "You're crazy if you think I want you. Go back to your stupid farm and fucking bother someone else. I don't give a shit about you or want to be your friend! We aren't friends and I don't know why you think so! Just leave already! _Leave!_ "

He was yelling. Actually yelling at Lucky, who looked back shocked in return, biting back the anger that flashed across her features. "If you packed your bags for Zuzu tomorrow I'd never have a happier day. Just get the fuck away from me. I don't need you and your perfect little advice, or your stupid optimism or-"

He couldn't go any longer, unable to stop the tears from warping his vision and trailing down his face. The ache in his gut, the gray that smothered everything, the indescribable look in Lucky's eyes...He crumpled, covering his face with his hands.

The relief in Lucky's sigh was palpable and her hand dropped to rest on his shoulder. It was one of the most embarrassing moments in his life, but Shane couldn't stop the ugly, drunken tears. As they drained out the full weight of his exhaustion returned, anger only buoying him for so long. He was tired. So, so tired. 

When her fingers gently snaked around his wrists, he allowed his hands to drop away from his face. It took all the bravery he had left to lift his head. The Beast in front of Beauty.

Lucky was his only friend in Pelican Town. His only friend in the world, really. Why did he have to make her cry, too?

When she hugged Shane his sigh was out of sheer relief. There wasn't a ready explanation besides the same whining about his life he was sick of hearing from himself.

_I'm a horrible person, but you knew that. I'm incompetent, but you knew that. I'm a burden, but you're the one holding me upright currently, so I guess you know that, too._

There weren't words for what a fuck-up he was. What he had destroyed before and would destroy in the future.

Her jacket was damp and rough but she smelled like pumpkin spice and didn't complain when he buried his head in her neck to stop the tears from dripping to the carpet. "I don't think any of that about you," he drunkenly whispered. Just so it would be said. "I just can't change."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, guys, thanks for reading and I love hearing your thoughts as we go along! <3
> 
> I do have a question, though, since I am winging this to some degree, which is: Are Shane's moods too drastic? He tends to design his own wax wings and then take a match to them before he's off the ground, so I was just curious if the reading experience could be improved by toning it down some. Just curious and thanks again! :)


	12. Kate

When she dropped by to pick up her chickens and Marnie chipperly called him over to help, Shane didn't look at Lucky. Didn't talk. Nodded numbly and felt his fingers burn when her hand brushed his passing the cages.

She picked out her chickens by hand, oohing and awing about them while Jas danced around her suggesting names. _Rose! Fairy! Sara! Kate!_

Shane forgot Kate was her sister's name until Lucky's rebuttal never came, replaced by awkward silence instead. She swiped up her new hen and told Jas she'd stick with their fairy soap opera names, which made Jas happy enough.

He snuck a glance at her, the relief he expected to feel about Lucky not mentioning Spirit's Eve taking the backseat to how irritating it was to be around her and silent.

She looked all over the room--anywhere but him--and her grin was just the same as ever. Enthusiastic, warm, _Lucky-like_. It stayed for the walk over, the time it took for the chickens to settle in their cubbies...all until Jas was gone.

His swift exit went up in smoke as soon as Lucky's voice cut through the gentle clucking. "Are you mad at me?"

There was no conversation he really wanted to have right now, much less this one that made his headache feel like a package of nails bouncing around his skull. "No."

"Then could you look at me?"

He clenched his fist to feel the tearing of skin, the sting of pain up his bandaged hand. "No." 

"Don't I deserve that?"

He bit his tongue, a sigh forcing it's way from his lungs. Lucky got under his skin too easily. "Is there anything else I can ruin?"

Another silence that was a breath too long. A silence that sent his heart hammering against his chest, reminding him he could have ended it all yesterday. Could've saved himself this pain. In his mind that had been a dry, dismissive line. When it came out of his mouth it was shaky and honest.

Lucky's response spoke for itself. "Yes; tell me what I should name the hens."

Shane wrestled his anxiety and faced her, scanning her familiar features for signs of repulsion. There was only the challenge of a raised eyebrow and a flutter of sympathy behind her eyes. Sympathy he didn't deserve. 

"Kate," he answered, crossing his arms. Finding himself more with every second Lucky continued looking at him like it was any other Saturday. The boringly perfect sister could share the name, couldn't she?

A smile crept back on Lucky's face, weaker than the ones she gave Jas but real all the same. "Only because she'd hate to know I named a chicken after her."

The awkwardness lingered, but Lucky steamrolled past it until part of him questioned whether she remembered his sloppy, brainless attempt at a kiss in the first place. She _was_ a lightweight...

Or maybe he was just daydreaming again. Wishing for dumb things just because he was around her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Last chapter I wanted to make sure Shane's rollercoaster ride wasn't too jarring and on this chapter, I just wanted to thank all of y'all for your responses! :) They were very helpful and super appreciated.
> 
> A short chapter here but I hope you enjoyed. The next oughta be posted sooner rather than later <3


	13. Normal

Shane didn't hear the first knock at his window. Or the second. Hell, maybe it was the fifteenth that got to him. He couldn't ever tell.

But once the tapping got obnoxious enough to be real, and not just some figment of his constantly liquored imagination...well, he still didn't bother to look.

It was the wind, or a bush, or a serial killer who had hopped the first train to Stardew. Not like he cared. Joke was on them, he was just dreaming of ways to die, anyway. Usually the cliffs were his favorite--secluded, guaranteed, with a sense of grandeur Shane a few years ago would have appreciated in his classic literature class.

Today it'd been the pills stacked up in the medicine cabinet. Stuff Marnie used for her aches and pains and the really serious meds he had been prescribed for his injury. Mixed with booze, of course.

So he just tossed his pillow at the noise and rolled around the bottle in his palm. What would it mean if he left?

Sure, it'd be a void. Nothingness. Empty...but Shane was used to that. He couldn't hurt anyone else like that, or waste their time. You can't even miss someone when you're dead.

The knocking got louder, rattling him _and_ the glass. What the hell was it? 

Shane rolled over, scowling at the irritating serial killer outside. They waved. Just like that his heart picked up and he shoved his pills under his blanket. Lucky. Outside in the rain. Shit.

He teetered over to the window, grappling with it to get it to slide open. "Can I come in?" Shane blinked, looking down at the trash he had waded through to get there. Bottles, cans, wrappers, plates. That wasn't even mentioning the clothes. "You...probably don't want to," he managed.

Lucky's hair looked darker than normal, jacket slung on one shoulder and not the other. Weird. "I really do. Do you mind?"

He answered too fast. "No."

Lucky grinned, on the sill before Shane could react and swinging her other leg over. He gripped her jacket for support and ended up taking her with him when his body keeled backwards just watching her climb. While Lucky tripped forward, Shane flailed and ended up on his ass.

The pain was just a dull thud. The farmer leaned over him, voice too high when she asked if he was okay.

"As much as I'll ever be."

Lucky started on about how his drinking worried her, but Shane could tune her out like he was turning down the volume on a radio. It wasn't anything he hadn't heard before.

Maybe it was a dream. Lucky looked like herself, but everything was off. She hauled him up with a few pulls and Shane leaned against her just to test it, staring at her the way he reserved for when no one was looking.

Lucky didn't raise an eyebrow, make any distance between them. She just looked... _different_. Like she was a little bit smaller. Even looking up into his eyes, with her slightly scarred nose and blindingly green stare. 

But he was only half a head taller than her, like always. So he didn't know. "You...normal?" He meant to ask if she was okay. That was as close as he got.

Lucky laughed, guiding him over to his bed and flopping down beside him. "No, Shane." She kicked off her boots, stripping out of her jacket and letting his mind wander. Having to swallow the shame in his throat killed that quickly. 

Lucky's sigh was long and content. "But I'm fine. Thanks for letting me crawl through your window in the middle of the night." She smiled at him, but her dimple didn't show.

"Uh, sure. Why are you here?" Shane rubbed at his face, trying to remember what he must have forgotten.

"Just wanted to see you. Figured you'd be up." 

The dream continued as Lucky talked him into playing some video games. They played one of his old favorites--one where you're mowing down mutant gargoyles with a shotgun. Man, the graphics sucked now.

That was just how aging worked; you look back at things that used to be beautiful and find out you were just stupid. Easily amused. Maybe he'd look back at Lucky one day and feel the same way.

They laid across his bed to play and Shane knocked his pill bottle off the side so she wouldn't ask. It made a louder sound than he expected, but Lucky just threw a look over her shoulder and went back to turning gargoyles into ash. He had gotten away with it. Dumb he even cared what she thought.

Lucky talked a lot, asking him a bunch of questions. On people, mostly, but he had to drunkenly mumble out how he hated winter and wasn't excited for snow, either. He didn't know why she bothered with his cynical opinions any more.

When she put her jacket back on and said goodbye, he got an overwhelming smell of beer. Yoba, how could she stand to be around him? Not like he'd be surprised if he was wearing more than he had stomached.

The rest of the house was silent and his mumbled apologies _still_ ran together. But she hugged him anyway--held him up, too--and Shane swore it was a full minute of his life they spent like that. Together, quiet, warm.

The only thing that could have made it better would be if he could stay upright when she let go.


	14. Ice

There was something about Jas' voice that got to him. Even through the beer and the blankets layered over him, hearing her shriek startled Shane awake with his heart pounding. He grappled with Marnie's quilts, tripped up and spilling onto the floor before he was thinking. 

_Eric._ It was cold. The hardwood burned his hands as he picked himself up, the chill forcing it's way into his lungs with every breath. 

Jas called out, breathless and...happy. "Snow! Aunt Marnie, it snowed!" The adrenaline sluggishly faded, leaving his chest heavy and Shane alone with his thoughts. That was never a good thing.

___

The snow was blindingly white, everything outside the Stardrop's window covered in an inch of the crap. He was wet before he even made it into the saloon and his spot by the fireplace was taken. Of course.

If there was one thing worse than a Sunday it was a winter Sunday.

So he sucked it up and sat in the back, as far away from the crowd as possible. Emily tried to make small talk when she passed--her usual sympathy for a stray routine--but he couldn't muster a smile and even the clinically cheerful bartender gave up after a while. They always did.

He perked up a bit when he caught Lucky trundling through the snow towards Evelyn and George's house, giving a hug to whoever opened the door and slipping inside. Just a reminder she existed in the world.

No matter how many beers he knocked back, draining his meager JojaMart paycheck away, the cold wouldn't leave. Couldn't be persuaded, bargained, or argued with. The evening rush came early, and Shane would be lying if he said he didn't find some morbid satisfaction in meeting the uncomfortable eyes cast his way. The town loner. The buzzkill in the middle of their festive atmosphere.

Pierre and Robin talked about Winter Star lights, already planning and bargaining for goods and food. By the time Marnie arrived to take up her seat across from Lewis, the residents of Pelican Town had already devolved into their usual gossip.

Shane barely paid attention until he heard Lucky's name. "Really bad-"

"Lucky-"

Aunt Marnie whipped around, one eyebrow raised in her way that was half curious and half threatening. "Lucky _what_? Did something happen?"

Lewis twirled his mustache behind her, already tuning out Caroline's answer. "You didn't hear?" 

She looked at Gus, who cleared his throat before awkwardly relaying words Shane couldn't imagine coming from him. "Well, I wouldn't call it a bar _fight_..."

There was an unspoken rule he and his aunt had--at the Stardrop, each of their business was their own. Shane could sulk in peace and Marnie could sit with her boyfriend, playing at discretion in the town that would talk shit if you sneezed too loud. But Marnie's gaze found him as soon as Gus said that, a look of horror on her face.

"Fight..?"

It was hard to reconcile that with the same Lucky he knew, but the longer he sat thinking the more he could see it. Relaxed and non-confrontational Lucky--the careful, in control woman he knew. A girl with a nose knocked slightly out of place. Like it had been broken before.

"Threw her drink all over him and slipped Gus her tab and walked out!" Caroline was enjoying reliving it. Bitch.

"They didn't touch each other," Gus added quickly. "Just an argument. Too much to drink, I'm sure. You know how Alex can say things..." Shane swallowed. What a surprise Alex had been the fucking problem.

So that was why she had come to see him. For once his drunken worries had been right. Something _had_ been wrong with Lucky and if it weren't for bar gossip he wouldn't know it.

He stayed in his seat. His grip on his beer was so tight staring at Evelyn and George's place his knuckles were white.

Should he walk over? They couldn't fault him for being a concerned citizen. Hell, why _was_ she in Alex's house?

Damn Lucky, looking for problems again. All for the sake of some bullshit morality; some neighborly country idea Zuzu TV must have given her.

But the last thing he wanted was to give folks more things to talk about, so he ducked his head and grumbled about it being none of his business. Shamefully avoiding Marnie's gaze.

...So what if he happened to angle himself to look out the window?

For a long time he did nothing but watch snow fall. Imagining the perfect quiet the world outside would have and how much he would hate it. The ice on the roads and the skid and the scream of metal on metal breaking the quiet. The end of the best time in his life. The only good time.

Lucky stayed inside and he cared too much about what the prying eyes in Pelican Town would think to check on her. What a friend he was, and all over the braindead worry someone would read his mind--tie together all those fleeting, naïve thoughts he had for the sole purpose of embarrassing himself. 

When Sam invited himself down across from Shane something in his internal loop of self-hatred short-circuited. Out of surprise, probably, but Sam started talking so fast Shane had to abandon half the questions he had just to understand him. "-so I decided 'why the hell not?' and came over. How's your day been?"

Shane almost told him to fuck off, to go bother someone else and that listening to him talk was like pouring marbles down a drain, but what blurted out of his mouth was nicer. "Bearable. Did you hear about Lucky?"

Sam's eyebrows knit together, but he didn't seem concerned. "No. Why's she on Granny's roof?"

Shane paused, reconsidering if Sam was even worth the brain cells to talk to until he looked out the window and saw Lucky brushing snow off the old folks' house, a twenty foot tall ladder propped up beside her. He opened his mouth and closed it. Took a swig of beer instead.

Okay, so he wasn't that out of touch and 'on granny's roof' wasn't slang or some of Sam's gibberish. Shane was still lost. "I have...no idea." 

They watched her for a bit, clearing snow off and hammering something down. In just her jacket she must have been freezing, but a pair of bright pink mittens protected her hands. Those looked like Evelyn's handiwork. "Why's she out in this weather?" Shane grumbled, more to himself than to Sam.

"'Cause Granny needed something. Alex's outta town and Lucky's got a soft spot for old people, anyway. Snoozefest." He shrugged, killing his drink and grinning. "Wanna shoot some pool?" 

Shane tipped his hand by glancing back at the house, just imagining Lucky hitting a slippery patch and falling. Snapping something. Breaking the careful silence. Sam was already up.

"Come on, she'll be fine. They have to call her Lucky for a reason, don't they?"

___

 

Time moved fast with Sam, and he'd been talked into two games of pool before the door squeaked open and closed.

The whole bar roused indistinct hellos and went back to their business, leaving Shane to focus on how shitty his next shot was going to be. Three stripes surrounding a solid? What a joke. He was going to pocket one no matter what. 

Hearing Lucky's voice sent his heart lurching in that seasick way he hated, sending three stripes into pockets and leaving his solid knocking against the side. Fuck.

He straightened up, ignoring Sam's laughter. 

"Didn't mean to startle you," Lucky said. He turned to look at her, dry comment swallowed up by dumb thoughts knocking him upside the head. She wasn't wearing any makeup, her nose and cheeks bright red. Cold and okay and...cute. A wave of relief washed over him.

"Well, maybe a little bit," she laughed, pleased with herself. Shane felt the heat in his face, too.

It's all because she pays attention to you. It's your ego reflected back, not something to bother her with. Stop toying with the idea of a crush, he bitched at himself. It was enough to knock him out of his reverie, and he awkwardly passed his pool cue between hands. "Thanks, traitor."

Lucky smiled, gliding past him to the seats and kicking back, setting the tray of cookies beside her. "I'll play winner," she chimed in, plucking off those pink gloves and blowing into her hands.

Shane watched her carefully, trying to imagine her tossing her beer in Alex's face; laying beside him to play video games and thinking about what she'd done the whole time. Not teling him about it. What had she ever done to earn Alex's anger, anyway? That was the million dollar question. And the one Lucky didn't seem to want to answer. 

"You'll be playing the solid master 3000 over here, then," Sam replied, sticking his tongue out. "He's actually not half bad."

Lucky shrugged, popping open the cookies and leveling a look at him. "You just suck."

Her laughter turned into a yell when Sam snatched a cookie right out of her hand, dangling it out of his mouth while he took his next shot. Which did, really, suck.

"Brat. I was gonna offer one."

"Oh, I know. It's just more fun to take." Sam bit into the chocolate chip cookie, wagging his eyebrows at Lucky.

They really were fun to watch.

But Lucky coming up and giving Shane one, placing a hand on his shoulder, and saying one word, beat it all. "Win."

For once, Shane figured he just might.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey! Thanks for reading and for all the comments. They really blow me away and Gray now officially has more comments than even kudos! I've never had that with a fic.
> 
> So let me know how you feel about this chapter's mild ~scandal~, and, to borrow a phrase from a lovely friend--happy reading, happy writing! ;)


	15. Transparency

Jas was always five steps ahead, her purple parka crunching as loud as the snow beneath her boots. It felt like days since he had picked it out but it was almost too small now. Months had gone by and he had slept them away.

He rubbed at his eyes, nodding at Jas' rambling plans for her snowman. Pulling the door closed behind him, he stopped to watch his breath billow in the cold. It was bright today, but clouds settled over the far side of the Valley and it was only a matter of time. The snow only ever got deeper. Harder to slug through.

Marnie was already out helping Lewis set up for the competition, as usual, but it was early for anyone else. Part of him still expected to find Lucky and Sam out in forts, flinging snowballs and roping Sebastian and Abigail into the fight. But it was just Sam, entertaining Vincent with some target practice.

Sam waved as soon as he caught sight of them and Shane returned it, feeling weird. Like a mom showing up for a kid's play date. But he shoved his hands in his pockets and trundled over, falling into his normal routine of blandly watching Jas have fun.

She and Vincent started engineering their own empire out of sticks and snow, an unreadable blur filled in by imagination he didn't have. "Do you need a moat if your whole city is made out of snow?" Sam teased, crossing his arms. Something had changed about him--the mindless way he elbowed to irritate, the way his eyebrows raised after any joke like he was waiting for approval. Some time between Lucky showing up and now, Sam had become...palatable. Shane didn't know why, or how, but he'd be lying if he said he hated him.

Shane had gotten used to him. Like a crab in a pot of warm water.

Sam was already planning his festival mayhem, and after shooting down giving Leah's sculpture a mustache--"She wins every year, anyway!"--he did like the idea of a snowman with a firework in the middle. Sam said it would be worth the community service hours for the look on people's faces. Shane could actually see the sense in that.

Anything that spit in the ennui of Pelican Town and the way it's residents lived disgustingly happily in monotony. Everything was plain and lifeless and _he_ was the only one with a problem?

After some bitching about JojaMart, Sam turned the topic to pool. Shane had won. By a landslide. Still made him almost smile thinking about it, actually, but Sam didn't care. He was way more interested in he and Lucky's promised tiebreaker round, saying they should make pool their "thing". Meet at the Stardrop every weekend for it. Bet and make up weird new rules every time. "It'd be _so cool_ ," he insisted. "Remind me to tell Seb and Lucky about it."

In a perfect world, Shane would've had the balls to say no. But the thought of playing Lucky almost sounded...fun. Whatever that meant. It was just a way to prolong his torture; to live in the fantasy that she could possibly mean all the dumb things she said.

But it was a better fantasy than the cliffs were. Didn't fill him with the same suffocating fear or feeling of the world dropping out from under his feet. Guess that was enough to give him his kicks now.

"What's up between her and Alex? Why's he such a dick?" he asked, keeping his eyes on the kids.

Asking Sam was a coward's way out. But he _was_ a coward, and Shane _had_ to know.

"I've never asked. Figure they just got off on the wrong foot, I guess. Her grandfather used to run that farm, though, right?" Shane nodded. "Maybe it has something to do with that, then." Sam never seemed like a deep thinker, but after a while of silence he added something else. "You might wanna ask Sebastian about that. He's lived here his whole life."

Of course it had to be Sebastian.

Shane sighed, wondering just how awkward that conversation would be. Whatever. That was what he got for being nosy.

An hour passed and the Festival of Ice officially started, according to aunt Marnie. People started showing up in twos and threes, filling the blank yard outside the ranch with snow angels and snowmen and forts. Fishing gear spread out over the lake, meaningless chatter echoing off the silent forest canopy.

Abigail showed up. Sebastian showed up. But no matter how many times Jas circled back to him to ask if he had seen Lucky yet, the answer was no. Once the fishing competition started and there was still no ghost of Spirit's Eve beside him Shane just had to go check on her. The only festival she had missed was the Dance of the Moonlight Jellies, and Shane figured getting dunked into frigid seawater would do that to about anyone.

Feeling everyone's eyes on him, he asked Sam to keep an eye on Jas and let the worry consume him. It was stupidly easy for a bad thought to spiral, and Lucky skipping the festival turned into something happened with Alex which turned into she's sick and alone. Coughing up a lung.

What kind of friend was he if he worried and didn't do anything about it? All he ever did was stay silent and let things happen.

It wasn't like Lucky to miss a party, and he could hear the breezy way she talked about winter like she was standing right next to him. It wasn't frigid. She didn't wake up thinking about a car crash. The snow that made him miserable--seeped into his shoes and turned an ugly shade of brown around the saloon from the dirt people kicked up--was just something else for her to be happy about. So why was he here and she wasn't?

When he knocked on her door, Shane didn't know what to say. _"I was worried about you"? "Jas asked me to come over"?_

He didn't get a chance to decide. "Come in," Lucky called. Feeling pushy and needy--like a baby who couldn't stand a few hours of being around neighbors without his shield--Shane let himself in. Music thrummed from her record player and a haze of smoke lingered.

Lucky was laying on the floor, one arm resting under her head and the other lifting a cigarette to her lips. "Hey, Shane," she said distantly. "Jas send you?"

"No." Her red eyes gave away that she had cried, but her face had already returned to it's normal tone. Now she was thinking. Moping, maybe. Shane was definitely familiar with that.

"You want to talk?"

She rubbed her face, standing up and throwing him her required smile. Turning sheepish about all of it. Embarrassed. "Don't worry about it. I've just been sitting around feeling sorry for myself. You really wanna get pelted by snowballs that bad, huh?"

"No," he groaned just imagining it.

"Too late," Lucky swatted his chest and took a deep breath. When her eyes fluttered open again, she looked just like he always imagined her. Relaxed, happy, deceptively straightforward.

Not a word of her crying or the paper she grabbed off her desk and crumpled, tossing in the trash when she got her scarf. She wound it around her neck and Shane stood by the door, uncomfortable with how easy it all was. Not like he _wanted_ her to be sad, but Lucky was shoving it down for his sake. 'Cause he was useless and couldn't help.

"Are you sure?"

Lucky paused, staring back at him. When her eyes softened Shane expected some revelation, some big secret or worry to come tumbling out like they always did for him. But Lucky didn't say anything. She just smiled and pulled on her jacket, appraising him in some way that didn't find him lacking. "Thanks for coming to get me."

They forded out into the snow together, and Lucky was accommodating to Jas as always. Building whimsical snow castles came as easy as chatting about his godchild's newest fascination: jellyfish. She had read about all the different types in one of the books Penny had given her, and now all the drawings she gave him were amorphous purple blobs with trailing frills. Lucky didn't seem to mind the change.

Shane couldn't tell the difference. He couldn't tell the difference and he fucking hated it. How did he end up as the most transparent bastard on the planet--the town fool to pass out in the street and shake like a leaf the second he got near a car--and yet he could look Lucky straight in the eyes and not recognize any of her demons?

Evelyn wheeled George over to Lucky, and while she stepped away Shane acted like he was focused on Jas' creation. Evelyn cooed her usual hellos, and George snuck a greeting in between his complaints about the cold. "Aw, come on. You two _met_ in the cold!" Lucky insisted.

"At this very festival, in fact. You're such a good listener, dear. Must get it from your grandfather."

"My grandma would have disagreed."

George laughed, "So would I, kid."

Shane would have loved to keep listening, to hear something slip that would explain something about the rapidly evolving enigma that was Lucky, but a snowball nearly knocked his brain out of his skull instead. Jas started, Vincent exploding with that high pitched laughter of his.

Shane hissed out a breath, looking over his shoulder to see Sam waving, Sebastian sheepishly beside him in a few more layers of black than normal. "Hey, pool shark!"

Shane hesitated, getting to his feet slowly. Since when did people give him nicknames? "What?"

"Come 'ere, duh! We need your help on something."

Sam stopped past the igloos, proudly declaring it the spot.

"The spot of what?" Shane was already suspicious.

"Our snowman, gentleman. Mr. Sparky." Sam's smirk as he pulled a top hat and firecrackers out of his bag was fitting for the hellion everyone said he was.

"Oh, we are _not_ calling it that." Sebastian pulled the top hat out of Sam's hands, rolling his eyes.

"You have a better idea?"

"Anything you didn't suggest."

Sam laughed, scooping up snow just to make Sebastian flinch. When he had approved the firecracker snowman, Shane hadn't expected to be included into the development team. "Why...am I here?"

Sam blinked. "Well, we have to _build_ the snowman. Unless you wanna make the kids cry." He laughed, moving onto packing snow together for the snowman.

"No, he means _him_ , dumbass." Sebastian stared through Shane, understanding immediately. "Abigail's sick today-"

"And Seb wants to surprise Lucky." Sebastian went red, grumbling something in his defense Shane couldn't make out. All he did was roll his eyes and shove his hair out of his face. They all knew it was true.

They worked on their separate piles and Shane tried ignoring the way the chill seeped through his clothes, sinking his hands into the loose drift to shape the head. Lucky was still in shouting distance, talking a mile a minute with Evelyn. Fine. And not fine at all.

Shane debated telling Sam and Sebastian--both who would have a better idea of how to help than he would--but he kept his mouth shut. It was selfish, but no matter how long he bit his cheek he couldn't make himself say anything. That meant he had to ask questions for once. "Hey, Sebastian."

Sebastian looked surprised Shane was making conversation. That made two of them. "What do you know about Alex?"

"I know enough to say he's a jerk." His snowball got some more packed on. "Like, got detention every week until high school."

For the gridball star? They would've yanked him from the team entirely after five write ups--at least if Stardew schools went by general standards. Hell if he knew. He grew up on the other side of Zuzu.

"No way! How come you never told me?!" Sam butt in, tripping over himself to talk. Shane bit his tongue, rubbing his numbing hands together and taking a deep breath in through his nose. He needed more alcohol for this shit.

So he watched Lucky and the old folks instead, hoping to fight his blood pressure spike. Like watching kitten videos, right? It was until Alex showed.

But he stared, and stared, and stared and Alex lingered behind his grandparents, constantly fucking with his hair like a princess. Nothing else. Shane finally grit his teeth and asked, "So, what did Lucky ever do to Alex?"

Maybe it was the words themselves, maybe it was the way he said it, but even Sam shut up to listen for once. Sebastian replied like it was the simplest thing in the world.

"Nothing. They were friends."

Shane looked back at Alex and Lucky, about to argue there was no way--that even as kids Lucky wouldn't have been able to stand him--and there they were, out on their own in the snow. The frozen drift piled up to their calves was pure white, making Lucky stand out even more as the black sheep. Alex loomed over her, the smug asshole shifting back and forth like he couldn't decide whether to stay or go.

"At least I think they were. I just remember seeing a brown haired girl with him sometimes when we were kids. It could have been her sister, I don't know. I was shy and she always stayed on the farm."

Shane froze, an idiot with snow slipping through his fingers because his brain was too busy stuttering at the connections he must have missed. What obvious questions he had never asked? Just how fucking blind was he? All this time he'd just been talking about himself.

The cold radiated from his chest, the sting of shame double-fold. What questions didn't he ask?

Lucky crossed her arms, laughing at something Alex had said. Oblivious to the eyes burning into her back, feeling farther away from her by the second.

All of them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Howdy, enduring readers! ;)
> 
> I'd like to apologize for the unusually long time it took for me to get this chapter out. This bad boy took my usual "one every few days" idea and frisbeed it into the sun lol. So I read Jane Eyre, played some video games, andddd finally here we are! Hope this chapter is up to normal standards. Truthfully, I've hit that point where I've realized I have no impartiality with it anymore and therefore can only hope y'all enjoy. 16 oughta be back to normal, though!
> 
> So, as always, thanks for your support! <3


	16. Never Better

Shane only dealt in extremes. Drunkenly ecstatic or crushed, spilling his guts or locking up every important thought 'til all the empty space in his chest was filled.

Now the image of Lucky and Alex talking alone out in the snow crowded his thoughts. His usual half-lidded sluggishness brightened into manic curiosity and anxiety. Shane couldn't say which was worse.

They finished the snowman, Sam slapped a hat on it while Sebastian shoved a firecracker through it's head, and he broke away to talk to Lucky without saying much of anything to the two of them.

Lucky didn't bother telling you anything because you're a selfish prick, he reminded himself. He marched over to her, sucking in heavy breaths through his nose and definitely red in the face. He didn't have to say anything for her to look his way, raise an eyebrow, and wait for him to explain.

He...didn't know what to say.

Not while Jas and Vincent flung snowballs five feet away and all the town beared down around him. Making him aware of every set of eyes, every ill opinion, every witness that would only open him up to criticism again.

"I need to talk to you." He managed to sound like he was irritated even now. When he wanted to _apologize_.

"Not here," he added, making and breaking eye contact without the bravery to turn and see all the townspeople whispering about him. 'Can't believe she puts up with him', 'Look, Shane's upright today', 'Hope Marnie deals with him'.

Lucky, in contrast to all the churning in his gut, hooked a thumb through the loop of her jeans and tilted her head to the side. "I mean, sure. On one condition." She grinned, leading him along and bypassing the ice sculpture crowd to slap one of her girly pink gloves on top of an igloo. "What better place to talk seriously?"

It was cramped, freezing, and when he smacked his head crawling in it was painful _and_ demeaning. Joy of joys. But it was Lucky's idea, so his complaints ended up hissed under his breath instead of loud like usual.

"This sucks way more than I thought it would." She laughed, tapping her elbow against his to emphasize how close they were. Shane was well aware of it already--her shoulder brushing his, the warmth radiating off her, that cinnamony pumpkin scent that stayed with her even when Spirit's Eve was long gone.

He couldn't tell if it was shampoo or perfume or a figment of his imagination entirely. Lucky was a dying breath of fall even when the snow started smothering the world in white.

One black sheep, out in the cold.

The wry look stayed on her face as she pulled off her gloves, absent-mindedly flexing her stiff fingers. "I'm sorry," he started, too sober to think straight. He felt clumsy and emasculated and shamed instead of anything resembling noble. "I'm a selfish asshole. I never ask about you. What you want or care about. I bitch all the time and all you ever try to do is help --", he palmed his eyes, letting out a breath.

Shane went around acting like he was the only one with problems--like Lucky was incapable of laying on the ground and crying now and then. He was an idiot to believe she just brushed off something like the Stardrop fight. She liked the people here, wanted to talk about the weather and chickens and giving a guy a beer bath wasn't exactly "blending in".

Lucky raised an eyebrow, studying him like she was wondering why he was saying all this. "Thank you. But, really, you don't have to worry about it. I have a voice, I'd tell you if you talking about yourself was irritating. You're just in luck I think you're interesting." She flashed that thousand volt smile, playing it off like it was no problem.

"If you're still worried about earlier I was being honest when I said it was petty." Lucky shrugged, but even repeating it lent a sour edge to her smile.

"Was it Alex?" The words made his tongue feel like sandpaper.

Lucky shook her head. "No, it's-" she stopped herself, choosing her words carefully. When she talked again she was still, leaning against the ice and looking more like she had when he had first found her. "Do you think it makes you a bad person to begrudge people their successes?" 

That was easy. Shane huffed through his nose, answering on instinct. "I do it all the time. Think it's the least of my sins, really."

Her smile snuffed out before it reached it's usual peak. "You're too hard on yourself," she sighed, gently knocking shoulders with him. "I just feel like such a dick when anything good happens to my sister."

Kate. The paper finally clicked into place in his head. Of course the girly scrawl he had caught a glimpse of had been from her. "You mean your boring sister is what's bothering you? Why?"

It was weird just imagining Lucky bent out of shape by the plain, dainty Kate he imagined in his head. Like Lucky but without her height or attitude--plain makeup, shrill voice--the type of woman that wouldn't even look at him when they passed each other. Wouldn't have to to know everything about him she'd ever want to. 

"I've had twenty-three years to accept she's more talented than I am and I still haven't done it. I'm playing in a band and she's going to college. I'm couch surfing and she gets her first apartment. I move out here to raise chickens and when I start thinking I might have actually done something right for once she tells me she got a promotion and is gonna make double what I'd ever dream of."

Shane opened his mouth, trying to untangle thoughts that smacked him over the head one after the other. Lucky was a shining star in the Valley--the person he turned to when he was feeling ugly and worthless and asked himself, 'why can't I do what she does?' But she was funny, rowdy, helpful...there was no way Lucky didn't know her talents. Being upset about money didn't sound right. "Since when do you care about money?"

"I don't."

"Then why do you feel bad you aren't your sister?"

Lucky backed off, biting her tongue. He pressed, leaping down the first dark rabbit hole he could find. "Do you want to leave Stardew?"

He said it more to punish himself than anything. To hear the yes that would mean he could stop daydreaming through his daily nightmare and give up already. It would be a relief, in some fucked up way, that Lucky didn't care enough to stay. 

All the bullshit excuses to push through the day without 'accidentally' crushing himself under the shelves at Joja could magically disappear. 

They were embarrassing, anyway.

Shane had to string himself along on the promise of a nice conversation, or someone smiling at him, or Lucky dropping by and doing all of that and more. Stuff he had forgotten he liked in the monotony of wake up, work, Stardrop, cry, sleep. Stuff any normal human could manage without thinking about it. 

Lucky's face scrunched up, "And do what?" Shane didn't have an answer. He didn't know what they did in Zuzu, really. Besides watch gridball games and...party, he guessed.

Lucky didn't bother to let him answer. "I left the city for a reason. I left my apartment and my job and the people there knowing what I was trading and had my shit packed in a day. I couldn't do it anymore."

Shane knew that feeling. Boiling over. Life was too much and anywhere else was better than here. Better than the small town gossip and stagnation. "I know life here isn't interesting--I _really_ fucking know that--but if you think you oughta be your sister I don't know what to tell you other than that's stupid. I'm glad you're here-- _you_ , not anyone else. No matter how much better you think they are. I wouldn't be sitting in an igloo with them." 

Shane regretted it before Lucky was even done laughing.

He had spilled enough of his guts today and he hadn't been that rude to Lucky in months. Yoba. But Lucky just laughed, and kept laughing, and hid her face in her hands to giggle a little bit more. "I'm sorry you're being honest and I'm laughing, I just--imagining you sitting in this with anyone else..." she uncovered her mouth, and her smile was so brilliant the worry about making her angry left completely.

No, then it was way more important to know if she felt his heart pound when she touched him.

"Thanks, Shane. I can always trust you to not sugarcoat things, I guess. I don't mean to be such a bummer, I don't know. Just get wrapped up in the way things used to be sometimes." Lucky sighed in a restful kind of way, pulling up her legs to lean her head on her knees.

Shane nodded, digging his nails into his hands for just a second to remind himself. "I'm always wrapped up in what used to be." 

Saying it out loud confirmed it. Meant handing his heart over bit by bit, the most painful way.

"I had a gridball scholarship, a brother, a life back then. Now what am I? A shell that walks back and forth to work and takes up space." He shook his head. Couldn't look at her. It felt like a lifetime had passed and somehow he wasn't dead yet.

"You still have a life. Look at me--hey, Shane--It's not lost if you can find it again, and you can. Maybe not the same things, but things that make life worth it." He couldn't look away and knew the words that were going to come out of her mouth before she said them.

They crashed down like ice picks, each boring further and further into his spine. "And I think you need to see someone."

"Need to see someone," he breathed back, feeling the seconds slow to a claustrophobic deadness. 

You need to see someone.

He stared at Lucky, took in how one eyeliner wing was a little different than the other. How her dark eyebrows knit so seriously. How unwavering the eyes underneath them were. Like they weren't friends. Like she didn't believe in him.

You need to be fixed. You're too weak to do it by yourself and everyone knows it.

"Shane?" Lucky's hand rested softly on his shoulder and he realized just how harshly he was sucking in air. How tight his chest was and the feeling of being too close clamping down on him--wide open and waiting for the blow that would end him.

That miniscule contact sent his touch-starved brain wild, and thoughts and urges pushed and pulled him in directions he didn't have any right to go in. Fuck. He really was a basket case, wasn't he? Thinking about all of this when she told him he needed help.

He could only go back. Never forward.

Shane yanked himself away, a mounting feeling of doom taking over. Lucky kept talking--said things he should have responded to, but couldn't. The cold of the igloo suddenly felt like the world itself was trying to bury him in it. He was under a snow drift and everything was muffled except for the nerve-wracking fear.

Hyperventilating, Shane did the only thing he was good at. Escaping. He threw himself out of the igloo and ran until he felt faint and locked himself in his pigsty to binge. Ignored the knocks on his door that he knew were Lucky. Eventually, they stopped.

A firecracker going off later made him knock his beer off the table.


	17. Glue

Shane woke up the way he normally did: six hours late and wishing he was back asleep already.

He threw an arm over his face to block out the light, trying to bring the fading memories of his dream back. Eric, all lanky and tall with the long hair that he had insisted was cool since they were teenagers. He was in the last outfit he ever wore--some bulky winter jacket and a tartan scarf--and wouldn't believe Shane no matter how many times he told him. You're dead, Eric. Dead.

Eric had looked down at himself and back at Shane and asked, "Do I look dead to you?"

And that was that. That was all he got. No prophetic last brother goodbyes or thank yous or anything. Just shit. Like usual. And the sad part was it was still going to be the best part of his day.

It was hunger that finally forced him up, and he was glad it was the weekend. Just thinking about putting on his apron and having Morris sneer at him made him sigh on his way to the fridge. It took a while for the conversation at the kitchen table to register with him.

"She said she's never been to the city."

"Oh, well, no, I guess she hasn't. With the animals I don't get many opportunities to leave the ranch."

"Would you mind if I-"

Lucky. It was Lucky talking to Marnie. Shane froze, hoping they hadn't even seen him yet. He was shirtless and gross and should have showered two days ago. Fuck. Wasn't falling asleep worrying about her enough?

He squeezed his eyes shut, taking a deep breath. Don't care was the answer. Just don't care. He didn't need help. He needed to learn how to care less.

He drank some milk from the carton just to look like he had a purpose for being there and left without looking at Lucky.

Don't care, don't care, don't care, he said under his breath. Nothing could bother him if he didn't let it in. He was just him and the world was the world and Lucky was a part of the world that would never be his. The part that knew what the fuck it was doing in whatever this game of life was.

After staring at his muted T.V. for a while and stockpiling anxiety like nuts for winter he decided he had nothing better to do than shower. Not because he could still hear Lucky talking with his aunt. Just...something to do.

It was a relief to feel the water on his skin, even if it burned at first. Shane couldn't tell anymore if it was sweat or grease in his hair, and used way too much shampoo regardless. It took the water turning cold for him to get out, and even then he heard that Marnie wasn't alone. Of course.

He threw on whatever was on top of the laundry basket and headed back to his room, almost turning right back around as soon as he saw the leather jacket draped over his chair.

Shane sighed and flopped down on his bed like Lucky wasn't there. Like he couldn't feel her eyes raking over him, or that spark in his chest when she started talking.

Selfish, he reminded himself.

Closed his eyes. Broken.

"I'm sorry I upset you yesterday." Shane bit his tongue, still not wanting to have this conversation.

"It's fine."

And it was fine. He just knew how she really felt, and it didn't match up with the fantasy he had kicked around in his mind.

"I should have been smarter about it. I've never been good about talking about this kind of stuff."

If Shane were someone else he would probably say she sounded really honest. Like she was speaking from the heart and they were having a moment. But they weren't. Shane didn't  _have_ 'moments'. Shane had delusions.

So he didn't reply at all. She had said sorry, knew more about him than he ever wanted anyone to know, what more could she want?

She outlasted him in the silence.

"Isn't this the part where you leave?" He gritted through his teeth.

"No. Do you want me to leave?"

Shane bit his tongue. There she went, shoving hope into his arms when he didn't want it again. She was going to leave, he knew it. He'd freaked the fuck out right in front of her and that was where they'd end.

"What's your favorite food?"

Shane almost opened his eyes. "This your idea of a joke?"

"Nope. Mine's snow yam casserole."

It was irritating, and yet he still couldn't  _not_ answer. "Jalapeno Poppers." The favorite food of layabouts everywhere.

Lucky nodded like that wasn't the lamest answer ever. "One time when I was a kid I ate so many on a dare I couldn't eat anything spicy for a year. Alex made fun of me for the rest of the summer."

All Shane could see were two people in the snow, black and red and short and tall and enemies and...friends?

"If you were such good friends with Alex what the hell happened? Why didn't you tell me about the drink?"

It _was_ his last chance to know, after all. He'd gone to sleep convincing himself that Lucky would never look at him the same way. Replaying stumbling over his words about Eric and gridball and the success he used to be. Revealing his pathetic shell.

After this, all the things he should have asked about would have to settle in his chest like a weight. He'd be alone, and think about them all the time. Fixate. Lucky talked so freely it was easy to forget how little he knew. Easier, at least for a selfish asshole like him.

His mattress depressed, Lucky filling the void beside him. He squinted up at her, losing heart when he saw she was already looking at him. Since when could someone _else_ make him feel so stupid? Like all his worries were never real in the first place.

"I only ever visited my grandparents in the summer; I don't know why he's like he is now. I stopped coming to the Valley some time in high school, and I changed...a lot. Alex is still the angry kid I met at ten."

Lucky got lost in thought, frowning a little but looking none the worse for it. It was hard to imagine Alex as anything but a lumbering jock, much less her playdate as a kid.

"Why the beer bath?"

He almost didn't catch the way her eyebrow twitched, replaced by the easy-going shrug of her shoulders. It reminded him of the bend in her nose. The break. She was flexible, level-headed. Maybe he _was_ stupid for worrying so much about her.

"He knows how to push my buttons. I didn't tell you because I didn't want you to know. It's embarrassing."

Red and tucking her choppy blonde hair behind one ear, Lucky wasn't kidding. It was like a flip switched in his brain. Lucky was embarrassed for _him_ to find out? Oh, Yoba.

Shane laughed, and then laughed a little more, and then threw his hands over his face and wasn't sure if he would ever stop.

She was normal, he was...well, he was here, and he couldn't help but gesture to his room.

"You had to step over clothes to get to my bed."

Lucky laughed, too, and it was like all the tension was sucked from the space between them. He was dumb. So, so dumb to worry about her. In a good way. She stretched out beside him. "You mean your dirty dish decor? I'll live."

Her eyes carved a pattern through his mess, from the glasses piled up on his desk to the clothes and trusty leaning tower of pizza boxes. The pepper popper boxes reminded him, "why do you care about what my favorite food is, anyway?" It was good, being able to take deep breaths again. Lucky was still there.

"Because I want to make it with you sometime."

Shane was completely lost. She'd have to connect the dots for him. "...What?"

"If you aren't ready for a big life change, then no one can make that decision but you. But there are still things you can do that can make life better. If you can't remember things you like, we'll just have to find new things." Lucky mimicked his position, throwing one arm under her head and glancing over at him like it was the easiest thing in the world for her to say.

'We'.

"I don't know why you want to do anything with a fuck-up like me. You've got a future, and potential, and..." He faded out, something twisting deep in his chest when he looked at her.

Maybe it was his heart doing the one thing he knew it shouldn't. Liking the sound of  _'we'_.

"I'm not your problem."

Lucky shook her head. "You aren't a problem, Shane, you're a person."

Shane's selfish heart fluttered and soared and he trapped the feeling. He remembered it, but not half as sweet as this. _Nothing_ was like this. He cracked a real smile.

One day--in a week, a month, a year--she would realize there was only so much glue you could use to try and put someone back together before they were more glue than person. But that day wasn't today. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Eighth Deadly Sin: Drinking milk straight from the carton. Shame, Shane. Shame.
> 
> I had to sell my kidney for this chap, but I'm happy it's finally out!
> 
> As always, thanks for sticking around. I appreciate all of you on this slapdash adventure with me and your insight and commentary is a kick to read. See you soon! <3


	18. Sunburn

 

Life had been...better.

Shane didn't say it out loud, but when he got ready for work in the morning and Jas scooted her chair closer to his he guessed it must have been obvious. He crunched on cereal and while she hummed some song from a cartoon he found himself humming along mindlessly. It was something about little girls and magic powers. Jas liked the purple one. Shocking.

"If you were an animal, what animal would you be?" she asked, staring up from one of her drawings. "It has to be in the ocean," she clarified, looking serious.

"Is that jellyfish poisonous?" He pointed at it with his spoon. It was soft and round and actually a hell of a lot better than when she had first started. The kid had talent.

"No, of course not; it's a moon jelly! They're harmless."

Shane grinned, "Oh, okay. Not that, then. Can I be a sea slug?"

Jas bounced in her seat, tugging on his arm. "Come on, be serious!"

"Then you pick. You know a lot more about animals than I do, anyway."

Jas was only half satisfied, scrunching up her nose at him. "What about Lucky? What would she be?"

Shane raised an eyebrow, half wondering why he'd bother thinking about such a worthless question in the first place.

Jas was why.

Her sitting close and asking his opinions wasn't something that had happened in a while. Shane's guilt could eat her alive when things were bad, and she had learned to give him a lot of space. Like something feral she'd pick up outside and cry to Marnie to save.

But that's why Marnie was there, he guessed. To be her parent when he was too pathetic to fill in the gaps. Sorry, Eric. Sorry, sorry, sorry. Like he could ever say it enough.

So he actually thought about it.

"A jellyfish," he finally decided. They suited her. Colorful, mysterious, easy-going. A creature that never fought the current. "Whatever's the prettiest kind." He shrugged, mussing Jas' hair and getting up to throw on his apron and hat.

"Chrysaora Achlyos!" Jas called after him. Shane was happy one of them knew what she was talking about.

On his way out Marnie reminded him that a new chick was supposed to hatch any day now, and instead of sighing and grunting he nodded and tried to be excited for it. It was new life. A new chicken. He liked them, right? He was attached to Charlie, at least.

Jas came barreling out the door and chased him down before he was off the property, shoving a paper in his hand and telling him to have a good day. It was bright and still somehow cold as shit, but at least the snow would melt if it kept up. Annnd then make the ground slippery. He sighed, squinting against the white glare. Whatever.

_'Do you want me to leave?'_ Lucky's question still rung in the back of his head, and he asked it to himself occasionally. Just as a test of sorts. The answer was never yes. They ate jalapeno poppers, talked for hours, and Lucky swung by of her own accord. Often. "Just to check in," she'd said.

It was weird, being glad someone was around. He'd trade a six pack for her, after all. Had done it more than once now. Shane couldn't imagine what it would mean to admit that. Didn't want to.

When he crossed the bridge to work--the one that she'd shoved a pot of dirt into his hands on and promised something would grow from it--he thought of it on his window and how many months ago it had wilted. Would it grow back?

Could something that long dead feel the sun?

He opened the paper Jas had given him and knew instantly Lucky would want to see it. Two colored pencil jellyfish floated in the white void, with arrows naming them respectively. How cute. He was an unsuspecting moon jelly--the kind Jas was so fond of--but Lucky? Lucky's jellyfish was bright red and had long frills trailing from it. Like a firework mid-burst.

The only reason he was a happy little blob with a three for a mouth was because Jas was too nice to make him a crab or a slug or something, but the more he lived with the idea of a jellyfish being Lucky's animal the more it clicked. She'd had to leave the Dance of the Moonlights early, sure, but he knew without thinking she would fall in love with them instantly.

It reminded him of what she said when they sat on her couch, sharing their plate of pepper poppers and watching some T.V. show they talked over. _"It's just a bad day, not a bad life."_

That was just what a jellyfish would say.

So he tried to find the good going into work, too. Just to feel something through the demeaning jingles, through the pain that arced up his broken body, through the gray. He spent a collective of hours stacked on top of hours wishing a socket would zap him or a shelf would collapse or something in the Joja soda would finally prove to be radioactive. Just so  _anything_  would make the decision for him. 

Sam waved, blasting something in his headphones that Shane could hear just walking up. _Sam talks to you now. You talk to Sam._ That was...better, right? Right.

"You're early today," he said too loud.

Shane clocked in, shaking his head and checking Morris' inventory memo. "You're gonna go deaf."

Sam grinned, tapping his hands on his register and taking one earbud out. "That's cool. I'm good at reading lips, and this is _totally_ worth it. You wanna listen? It's our first demo tape." 

"You're listening to your own band?"

"Of course. Gotta be your own biggest fan, right? Plus, I'm listening for stuff to fix. Lucky says she can get us a gig in the city, but I want it to be perfect first."

Morris came out of the back before Shane could listen, but Sam loudly and insincerely apologized over his bitching while slipping a CD into Shane's hands with a wink. Shane could hardly believe it.

On his break, he resisted the urge to hit the alcohol Morris had stashed in his office. He sat out back on a crate instead, pulling the CD out and re-reading ' ** _DEMO #1_** ' over and over again like it would tell him anything other than Sam had shitty handwriting.

Shane had never heard anything Lucky had written before. They had talked about the band, yeah, and she'd talked about working out bass lines for it, but it all didn't feel real until he had the actual music in his hands. Cool. 

But Lucky hadn't mentioned it yesterday and that sent him in twenty different directions before he got reigns on it. He'd see her after work, he reminded himself. He could ask and she would tell him. Like, y'know,  _normal_ people did.

The emotion that bubbled in his chest at the thought was almost frightening.

He idled the rest of his fifteen minutes away just leaned against the back of the building, staring up at the sky and turning the CD over and over. Thinking about Lucky. Her bad jokes, her habit of leaning against anything that would hold her, her learning how to bake in a jet black apron...the way she smiled whenever she talked about her farm, or the town, or her friends.

The way she smiled when she talked about him.

Shane headed inside, remembering why he didn't think about those things.

Alex was an unwelcome surprise. He came in and Sam found Shane's eyes from across the store, raising his eyebrows. Shane grit his teeth and ignored the gridball player, keeping the demo in his pocket at the forefront of his mind instead. _Bad day, not a bad life._

"Is the new JojaEnergy in yet?"

It was hard to ignore him when he asked a direct question. Whatever. He and Lucky used to be friends. She wouldn't want him starting shit. "Yes," he pointed to the shelf he had stocked earlier. Morris had demanded they get put out today.

"Thanks, man." That sentence was almost...human. Shane blinked, his mouth ahead of his brain. In the puzzle of the world Lucky and Alex just didn't fit. Shane wanted to know why, looking at him then.

He was probably closest in age to her out of all of them, with a sharp jaw and a jacket that was a little lighter green than Lucky's eyes. On paper he could see them being friends. Dating, even. The handsome jock with the funny social butterfly. A regular golden boy and golden girl. It happened in all the time. All the old folks in town probably raved about how perfect it would be before she gave him a beer bath. "Why don't you like her anymore?"

Alex paused with his hand on a can, letting the silence drag between them. "What?"

"Never mind." Shane swallowed hard, shocked the words had actually come out of his mouth. He wasn't talking to Lucky.  He was talking to _Alex_. Fuck.

"No, what? 'Why don't I like her?' You mean Rebecca?"

Shane felt like a cow looking at a new gate.

"Rebecca-- _Lucky,"_  Alex rolled his eyes, "is real mellow now, huh?" He crossed his arms, and Shane knew bitter when he heard it. Rebecca, though? Holy shit. Shane wished he had more time to be surprised.

"Whatever she said doesn't matter. She'll be gone again once she gets bored." Alex shrugged, sniffing and looking back at the JojaEnergy. He just didn't care _that_ much. Sure he didn't. Just like Shane didn't care.

The fluorescent light buzzed above them and Shane felt it sap the color from the air itself. Of course she'd be gone. He knew that. They all left eventually, and then it was just him waiting for the next person to come along and leave, too. It was just a bad day in a bad  life.

"That's why you're coming to festivals."

"What?"

Alex piled another drink onto his stack and sneered. "You have a hard-on for her and that's the only reason you've been more decent to anyone in town."

All the muscles in Shane's back knotted. He bit down, turning to face Alex head on. "Like you've ever earned shit from me," he snapped back. "And I don't care what some arrogant dick thinks, anyway. You throw a ball down a lawn and think you're special. One fall and you're done."

Alex squared his shoulders, and even the anger churning in Shane took notice of what a big guy he was. If he had been drinking he wouldn't have cared, but getting slugged by some uppity 20-something who still woke up at five to run didn't sound great.

Alex backed off instead, taking some moral victory Shane couldn't have cared less about. "So _that's_ a reason to quit for you?" He shook his head, looking like Shane was something that got stuck on the bottom of his shoe.

"Listen, you spend your time feeling sorry for yourself. You're just relying on her instead of the booze."

Shane was so close. The dreary gray he carried around was tinted red, bleeding out into his mouth and it was about to bleed for real. Shane kept his hands clenched at his sides but he was a heartbeat away from swinging staring up at that know-it-all sneer.

He took a breath in for the most vile shit he could imagine about Alex when a hand dropped onto his shoulder. Hard.

"Hey, Shane, I'm sure Morris loves your customer service spirit, but I think it's time we checked out, huh?" Sam leaned on him, throwing on something halfway between his fake customer service voice and a serious one.

His earrings jingled as he looked between them, and Shane was still ready to go. All he needed as a twitch and he'd lose, sure, but nothing would beat the feeling of getting a hit in.

Alex returned his glare but made a big show of shrugging and waltzing up to the front, leaving him and Sam. The bleach blonde got off him before he had a chance to shake him off, but Shane was more concerned about what he had heard. How fucking embarrassing.

Sam raised an eyebrow, "You okay, man?"

Shane bit his tongue, irritated by the concerned way he said it. No one in this fucking town trusted him to handle himself. He nodded and headed to the back, ignoring the ring of the register and swish of the doors.

In the break room (which JojaMart only had by regulation. If Morris had any choice he'd have shoved more product in there and told them they didn't need breaks), with it's lights switched off and only a microwave and rickety table with two chairs, he grabbed one of the mini pizzas he had stolen from stock and fumbled with setting it for three minutes in the microwave.

It went in circles--the dim, cheap hum of the microwave and it's light the only thing he had with him.

He didn't even have booze.

The nearest stuff was in Morris' office and Morris was in there. He crossed his arms and sighed, watching the pizza instead. _What else was there?_

The light flicked on, and Shane jumped like a rat caught in a garbage bin. "You can walk around here in the dark?"

Sam said it like it was a compliment, but it wasn't. He didn't bother turning the light on because he didn't care enough to, and he'd hit the table enough times to learn where it was. He just wanted to eat his pizza alone in the dark.

Sam took the chair across from him. "So, about all that..." Shane sighed, wilting closer to the tabletop. Of course Sam had to talk about it. His guts twisted as he shuffled over to get his pizza, imagining every condemnation it would get him if Sam believed it.

Shane was still reeling, but anger had sapped his faucet of emotion of about everything he could give. It was a trickle now. He was a gray rock, worn down by the waves. _Drip, drip, drip._ More like water torture than anything else.

The pizza was too hot to eat yet, so he had no choice but to stare back. _What's Sam going to say? Why did he care? What if Sam believes it?_

_What if I believe it?_

Shane turned the faucet off.

He shoved the pizza in his mouth and offered nothing. What could someone as pathetic as him say in his defense, anyway? He was almost thirty, and playing with the idea of normalcy because...because he had finally met someone that rubbed off. A woman bright enough that he couldn't imagine how everyone else didn't feel the same warmth.  And now it was burning.

Sam looked like he could imagine that. "Listen, don't let Alex get under your skin. The guy's a jerk. As far as I'm concerned your business is your business, but for what it's worth I think you should keep at it."

He shrugged, standing up and stretching until all of his joints popped, like there wasn't an issue in the world. "You aren't half as much of a debbie downer as you used to be, and I can, like, _talk_ to you. You don't even break merchandise anymore." He shrugged, smiling lazily. "I like the new Shane, man."

And then Shane was alone again. Crappy pizza in hand, in a closet of a break room, with the lights _on_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the wait, but 18 never was my lucky number, lol. I hope this chapter's length evens that out a bit, and that that was a happy surprise, too!
> 
> Also, I love Sam and his unlikely friendship with Pelican Town's local raincloud. Even if he's half deaf.


	19. Wasn't

 

 

 

When Shane finally got home, he listened to DEMO #1.

He listened to it for hours--until he knew every word and every beat. They were still finding their style, but Shane was honestly surprised at what they had put together. It was somewhere between aggressive and sentimental. Talking synths and killer bass. Punky, campy, and dark. It sounded like what you'd get if you put Lucky and Sam in a blender, really.

The last track was simply labelled 'Lucky' and didn't have Sam's brassy, hyper vocals over top. It was obviously her recording, and despite how much Shane's heart seized at the thought of her singing all he got was the bass. At the end, though, a muffled voice clipped in and her laugh ended the track.

It melted down the back of his throat like sipping something serious. Warm. Hot. Brushing over dead nerves for a raw spark.

Shane skipped back to it over and over, sunbathing in his dark room. It wasn't love.

It wasn't love but it sure as hell felt like it.  

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

Shane avoided the bottle and drowned out the silence with the demo to wander around the woods.

The snow was melting, but that only left slick ice patches underneath. If he was drunk, he would have busted his ass more times than he could count out here. He had, plenty of times. 

Or at least he assumed that was where all the bruises and scratches came from. They were small scars now, the type of thing he caught sight of when he grabbed hold of a creaking branch for support and didn't recognize in himself. They were his same rough, wide hands, but he couldn't answer for them anymore.

Not like showing off gridball injuries to girls for props. It was being a let down. A fuck up. 

He huffed up the road to the mountain, sucking in more oxygen than he was worth, and ended up staring into the glassy lake past Sebastian's house. Sebastian. That was another problem entirely. 

He sighed, sitting on the dock and stepping on the ice below just to watch it crack. Why was it always so cold when Lucky wasn't around? 

The sensation prickled up his arms, and Shane knew the answer without wanting to ask the question. It waited at the end of the CD, the junction in his heart somewhere between loved leather jackets and a lei being slipped around his neck. Alex was a dickhead and Alex was _right_. 

Shane let out a deep breath, tilting his head back. Since when was he that predictable? _Since always._  

Dragging his hands over his eyes until he saw stars didn't make him feel any better. Shocking. Shane grit his teeth. It was unfair as fuck to put so much on her. It was one thing to shove his mouth on hers and it was another to admit that this dependency was getting serious.

So he wouldn't. He'd keep it to himself if it killed him. The world could come down around them and Shane wouldn't say it. Not now, not ever.

It wasn't love.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sooooo I'm just gonna apologize lol. Sorry about the dead air, my dear readers. I've just been wrestling with everything recently and blah blah writer problems procrastination blah blah. No excuse here, I was just hiberating for a few months, ya know, nbd. OTL
> 
> But I decided finally to just post something since that's usually the kick in the pants I don't even know I need to push through and finish the next big piece. So this is basically a preview. I'm trying to cling to the principle of just putting out something semi-consistently instead of agonizing over everything & never posting.
> 
> All my thanks for sticking around and I will do my best to hit ya with the important next chapter(s) soon!! Love y'all


	20. Potential

 

 

She was feeding the chickens when he made it to her farm, bundled up to his nose in winter clothes. Looking like an idiot, he was sure. 

Lucky smiled, crouched next to her grain bucket, and raised an eyebrow. "Cold out there, huh?"

"It's horrible," he replied on instinct, though that wasn't what he felt as soon as he saw her.

"Funny, I thought the weather said it was 15°."

He rolled his eyes at her joke, stepping over hens to sit on a bench closest to the heater. Lucky laughed whether he did or not, so she won no matter what. Shane liked that about her.

He cleared his throat. "So, what's new with you?"

Lucky lit up, a too-happy twinkle in her eyes. "Well," she started, grabbing Goldie and sitting beside him. "It's good you came over so I didn't have to freeze my feathers off."

Goldie, the fattest hen of the lot, clucked like she agreed.

"I wanted to ask you about if now is the time to buy a rooster. Do you have one that you think would be compatible with my flock? I'd hate for the girls to get bossed around, and the chicken books I read said that sometimes introducing a rooster can knock out their feng shui."

Shane didn't know what feng shui meant, but being asked made him feel useful. If there was anything he still knew about, it was chickens. He thought about it.

"Well, Goldie is strong enough to hold her own," he pat the hen's head, "but if kindess is your concern I definitely think we have a few roosters that would fit in well." Lucky stood back up as he kept talking, pacing the coop and nodding intermittently at his ideas.

She was listening, so he kept going. About how many eggs to expect, how it would effect her profit margins, even about a few of his favorite roosters and their personalities. They weren't anything to be afraid of, and he didn't realize until he was done he had probably talked for twenty minutes about birds. And he was interested in the prospects.

Lucky leaned against the wall, eyeing the dusty incubator that Shane noticed had a new bulb in. ""I'm psyched to hear you say that. I know you probably think I shouldn't treat them like pets, but-"

"No, I get it. They're kinda like..." He picked up Rose, who was passing by, and scrutinized her carefully. Small, rowdy, cute. She squawked and stared at him with big, dark eyes. "Kids."

When Lucky laughed he suddenly realized how weird that sounded.

"No, like, they're like wrangling a bunch of kindergartners. And they're always excited to see you, and they're squirmy, and they kinda remind me of when Jas was just learning to talk." He stared at his reflection. "Guess I like anything that unconditionally shows affection."

Waking up with chickens surrounding him was a common binge occurrence. But he could leave that part out.

"Well, it's not like you didn't earn it."

Shane looked back up at Lucky. "You work hard to take care of them. You're the one who feeds them, and names them, and they know that. They're kind to you because you're kind to them. You can't sell yourself short about that. You're their entire world, Shane."

Lucky stopped short without warning and picked up an egg in her path. It was the color of weak hot cocoa and she held up it up to examine all of it's little speckles and grooves like it was a piece of art in it's own right. "Good days, bad days, storms, rainbows...The potential, I think, is what excites me so much."

Shane looked down at his hands and the scars that ruined them. Potential, huh?

"What if a fox came in and ripped a wing off?"

Lucky turned towards him and hummed. "Bad day." That was such an easy way to put it. Cheating.

"Well, then what? Let it die on it's own? You'd have to put it out of it's misery."

"I could always take it to Harvey or your aunt. They'd know what to do if push came to shove. They could save her."

Shane sighed, "What use is some Frankenstein's chicken to anyone?"

Lucky brought the egg to her chest, biting her tongue and red faced. Defensive over an imaginary chicken. "So, well, so _what_? If she can't fly, she can still lay eggs. Everyone's hurt, that doesnt mean they're broken. Even if she couldn't lay eggs, maybe her personality would be the best out of all of them."

Shane felt frustration instantly spike. Lucky was so stubborn--you couldn't just go around being sympathetic for everything all the time. Saving every stray.

"Why bother having her take up the space? Caring? You could always find another chicken and like it more. You can't just fix everything because you like the idea of it. It's going to drag you down, too." Lucky paused, staring at him, and Shane suddenly realized he had gotten more upset than he had intended. He deflated.

"We aren't...talking about chickens, are we?" Shane slumped over in embarrassment, ignoring the burn of her gaze.

"Well," Lucky sat beside him again, "then you just can't see it's potential." Shane waited there, her hand out to give the egg to him, for a long time before he took it. Lucky seemed seemed to take it as a win. Maybe it was.

Lucky was quiet for a while, and Shane could only stare at the egg in his hand and feel like an idiot. It was awkward.

"You don't always have to work for Joja. I'm always here, you know." Shane took too long to ask if it was a joke and Lucky moved on, lightening the mood and elbowing him lightly.

' _I'm always here'..?_

She said something about heading out before Abigail and Sebastian started ghost hunting without her, but Shane barely heard it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you like it & lets cross our fingers that I'm back in the groove of things! Big stuff coming up!
> 
> Thanks for reading & as always thanks for your insightful, funny, sweet comments! I've reread them over and over through the tough times lol.
> 
> Let me know your thoughts! <3


	21. Seconds

"Breakfast's still warm," Marnie said, not even having to look to know it was him stumbling out of bed at eleven.

Shane mumbled his thanks, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes. "Is Jas out playing?" he asked. The house was quiet.

His usual spot at the table was as welcoming as anything these days--probably why he had gained so much weight. Bacon, toast, eggs... _'You just don't see the potential',_ Lucky's voice rang in his head. Yeah, right. The potential to end up on his plate.

"Yes, but Lucky promised she wouldn't come back so filthy this time." Marnie chuckled to herself, a tomboy as a kid and hardly afraid of a little dirt on her overalls or her floor. Shane shifted in his seat and nodded. Good. Jas always came back radiating confidence after following Lucky around. Usually with a new book, too. "She came over to talk to you about something--sit down--and I told her I'd tell you when you woke up. They went down to the beach."

Shane hovered halfway between standing and sitting, debating whether it was worth the embarrassment to go now. "You know that girl's just going to ask you if you had breakfast, anyway. May as well do us all the favor and eat." Marnie shook her head. "I forgot how much like your brother you are sometimes." She smiled and took the seat beside him.

Shane slipped back down into his chair. Shoveled some eggs into his mouth. Like Eric..? Aunt Marnie didn't say that kind of stuff lightly.

"You know it's coming up, right?"

Shane didn't look at her. "Yeah." All of the excitement wondering what Lucky wanted--that stupid, childish anxiety only she could cause--smothered.

"Do you want to take Jas along this year?"

"No way!" He glared at her, but she just drank her coffee.

"Some day she'll want to know more."

"She's a kid! Why give her a day to be sad? Why does she have to know _when_?"

"I just wanted to give you the option. Eric entrusted Jas' care to you, not me. Just think about it, dear. It may bring you some kind of closure."

Closure? Shane sighed and grabbed the jacket hung on the back of his chair. What a fucking fairy tale. His only brother was dead and Shane was the one left here. The guilt would last forever. "She already lived through it once."

 

* * *

    
Shane never came to the beach. It was always cold, and this time of year the wind coming off the water was maddening.

He spotted Lucky by the fluff of blonde hair whipping in the wind, long enough now that it was way past her shoulders and giving her hell. Jas was a puffy purple parka beside her, squatting beside the water to stare in. Every step he took closer the worse he felt.

Jas, all alone. So young now and younger then. Crying her heart out for months while he sat and held her, not knowing a word to say that would mean anything. Just wanting to cry, too.

Her parent's death date was the sickest of all holidays. A waking nightmare that only reminded him how old he was getting. How angry he was. How worthless. How alone.

"Shane!" Lucky called out to him, waving. He hesitated, unable to avoid looking at her. Lucky was as beaming despite the cloudy, miserable sky above them. Shane bit his tongue and waved back.

Jas stopped scooping seawater and ran all the way to him, too impatient at his pace, he guessed. She grabbed his hand and tugged him forward. "Uncle Shane! Look, look! Actually, no, don't! Close your eyes!"

"Uh, okay?" Shane put a hand over his eyes but threw a sideways look at Lucky. She smiled, nose red from the cold, and mouthed: _'It's a surprise.'_ Of course.

He huffed but when he rolled his eyes he did it more to amuse her than anything. She shrugged, catching wild strands of hair and tucking them behind her ears. _'Sorry.'_ The smile on her face said otherwise.

Jas dragged him over to a bucket and told him to keep his eyes closed and reach out. "It's cold!" She warned, approximately .5 seconds before dunking his hand in icy water.

Besides the shock of cold, his hand touched something soft. Squishy. He jerked back instantly, just imagining whatever creepy crawlie she had dredged up. Jas cracked up, but her eyes only got shinier when she assured him it was only a jellyfish. He sighed and looked in the bucket. Hopefully not a poisonous one.

It was translucent, and only it's small movements made it discernible. "How could you even tell you caught anything?" He asked.

"Cool, huh?" Lucky stood beside him and leaned over to look with him. "It's only because she's got such a good eye; I couldn't see anything. Jas said apparently they like this kind of weather."

"The only thing that would make it better was if it was snowing!"

Snow? Shane cringed. That was the last thing they needed. "They're the only ones."

Lucky looked up towards the clouds and elbowed him gently as she passed by. "Well, not the only."

She took a few steps across the sand and asked Jas if she'd be okay if she took Shane to see the sand dollars. When Jas had no problem Lucky turned to him. "What about it, then?"

With that face? How could he ever say no?

 

* * *

 

 

Beach in winter was a surprisingly good look for her, the oddness of it all endearing. Salty hair, no makeup, cold hands. She shoved them in her pockets as they walked and Shane hung onto the moment. She was so calm.

Even when his hair got blown into his face and he got irritated she just laughed and swiped it back, letting hers run wild. It just took the brush of her fingers to bring that feeling back like it had never left.

It was nothing to her; a second in time. Life was nothing but seconds. "I wanted to ask you something this morning, but Marnie said you were asleep. So I figured since she doesn't have lessons today I would take Jas to do something fun."

"Thanks."

"Of course," Lucky said.

Shane shifted around, trying to avoid the emotions cropping up. "Really. You've done a lot for her." He looked out at the water just so he didn't have to look her in the eyes. "Sometimes I wonder if it's more than I've done."

Lucky's sigh brought him back. "It's like the chickens, Shane. They flock around you and you don't even notice. You're Jas' world. She talks about you like you're her hero. We end up talking about you most of the time we're together."

Lucky's laugh was gentle, and it took some sting out of the idea. "You...talk about me?"

"All the time." The pit that gave him in his stomach was nothing in comparison to the heights his heart reached. He was used to the burn of his name from other people's mouths, but the thought of Lucky sitting around with Jas was different. Of course it was. Lucky was too good for her own good.

"Listen, you want to go out?"

Shane froze, unable to suck in a breath. He watched as she turned red and coughed out a laugh, still unable to move. "I mean, like, _of here_. Sorry, I worded that weird. Would you come to the city with me?"

Shane let out a shuddering breath, his heart fluttering so erratically it felt like his ribs were threatened. "Uh, when?"

"Day after tomorrow. Sam and I are going to get our piercings and Abigail and Sebastian wanted to go with, so I wanted to ask you. I've already talked to my old friends and we can crash at my old band mate's place. They'll even play a show on Sunday, so we're going to stay for two days." Two days? The death anniversary was Monday.

"It's okay if you'd rather do something else. I just..." Lucky faded out, face red like she was embarrassed she asked. Or maybe it was the way he had forgotten how to breathe at her first question.

He was quiet for too long and she turned away, "We can head back-"

Grabbing her arm surprised both of them. "No-uh, sorry. I want to go. I was just thinking about what I had to do those days. I'm off, so it'll be fine."

Lucky nodded slowly, looking between his face and his hand still on her arm.

He took it off, immediately as red as she was.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading <3 I hope you all have been well!
> 
> We're finally getting somewhere, huh?


	22. Pleather

Sam squirmed every time the piercer got near him. Sat up in a faux leather chair, he chewed on his tongue and re-positioned himself twenty times while he checked the dot in the mirror and asked Sebastian if it was centered.

"Dude, if you want it any more perfect you're gonna have to use a ruler." Sebastian looked tired of leaning down to stare at his tongue, but as far as Shane could tell he wasn't lying.

Lucky took up the other chair and looked relaxed by comparison, slipping half out to nudge Sam with her foot and teasing him about what his mother would say. "It'll be a real shame Sam, a bright young guy like you? With a tongue piercing? Why I think you'll be fired on the spot."

Abigail dog piled, rolling in between them to shake her head like she was disappointed. "So much potential," she echoed.

Sam perked up, looking touched. "You guys think I have potential?"

Everyone groaned and the piercer slipped in between Shane and Abigail's shoulders with the clamp, chiming reassurances to Sam. "And the gang's all here, man, so I wouldn't lie to you," he joked, "It won't be half as bad as you're thinking. It's super fast."

Sam's fingers drummed on pleather and his eyes scanned all of their faces for support. Shane did his best not to look as bitchy as usual; no one wanted to be frowned at when they were getting a hole through their tongue.

They had all piled into the bus with their bags and dropped their stuff off at an intimidating loft downtown, which Lucky said was Bette's. Apparently the classic key under the mat was cool with her, and before he knew it Sam had gotten them all crammed into a tattoo parlor waiting for him to get stabbed.

"Okay, do me a favor and hold this." The piercer handed Sam a napkin and before he could even ask explained-- _spit_.

"Sweet!" Sam replied. Shane couldn't help but change gears when Lucky's piercer came back. She was a lot younger than Sam's bearded mountain of a guy, with nice curves but a pinched in face like she spent too much time squinting. Nice enough, though.

"How did yours feel?" Lucky asked, eyes trained on the small gold hoop in her nose.

The girl tilted her head, and seeing them together Shane couldn't help but notice how young they both were. The girl, what, twenty-three? And Lucky..? Twenty-five? Both pretty, sure, but in entirely different ways. And what was he? Some awkward no-life sitting backwards in a chair in some hip tattoo shop on some dark city corner. Trying to act like he belonged anywhere.

"Shane, you look like you're trying to curse me." Lucky shot him one of her _'You okay, dude?'_ eyebrows and he snapped out of it.

"Doesn't he always look like that?" Abigail teased, elbowing him, and Shane didn't really know what to say. Part of him still expected the distance they all used to have. The weirdness. The feeling of dread just looking at them created.

"Sure you don't want to get your ears pierced? You _are_ a virgin." Lucky asked him.

Somehow that still made him flush pink. Piercing virgin, sure, but...he threaded his fingers together, trying to forget the way her eyes crinkled. Playful flirtation, he reminded himself. Nothing serious. A joke.

His pulse still raced at the thought.

"Are you nervous?" He asked instead.

She scooted further up in her seat and threw a sideways glance at Sam, who returned it. They both had their dots. "Not really, no."

Sam batted her direction in protest, so much metal between the two of them they jingled like car keys. Childish car keys. But they laughed, and so did he.

"Can they do it at the same time?" Sebastian asked, circling over to Lucky's side just to sheepishly smile at her.

The piercers looked at each other. "Well, it won't be exact, but-"

"Sure."

So they both got prepped, Sam fake cried once the clamp came down on his tongue, and Shane found Lucky's eyes with his. It felt a little too intense, the shine she had then. All done up in her best city duds, not a trace of dirt or feathers on her and looking far too cool to look at some nobody like him like that.

She was saying something with her eyes and Yoba he wished he knew what it was.

The piercers started to count and Sebastian pulled out his phone to take photos. Sam looked wired enough to conduct electricity.

"One." Lucky took a deep breath and Shane just wished it would never end. He couldn't name all the things he wanted in that moment.

"Two." Abigail rolled over to Sam to give his shoulder a squeeze.

"Three." In the moment, Lucky's eyes squeezed shut. And just like that she had a nose piercing, back to the world anew.

Out of all the things he wanted, in that moment the grin that spread across her lips was what he wanted the most. That was something he could see forever. He wanted her to have it all the time--playing bass, sweating in the sun, pressed up against his own.

_Fuck._

"You okay?" A hand came down on his shoulder and Shane found himself looking Sebastian in the eyes. "You look irritated," he said.

Shane wasn't the one frowning.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Very happy to get two chapters out in one day! :)
> 
> Thanks as always and I'd love to hear your thoughts! There's some juicy stuff in here I can't help but get excited to finally start sharing. Is this fic even tagged slow burn? Cause oh boy it oughta be haha.


	23. Care

 

They ate at a cheap burger joint Lucky used to wait tables at and Sebastian insisted on taking a picture of her with the neon sign outside. Shane would have hated it less if Sebastian was a shitty photographer, but the guy really did deserve credit. It was the kind of portrait that he wouldn't be surprised to see slapped on posters for some show or another and everyone got all excited about it.

Half of it was Lucky, though. _Who could take a picture of a girl that pretty and fuck it up?_

"Send that to me!" Abigail insisted, talking already about how it was definitely going to be Lucky's new contact in her phone.

"Take one of me, too!" Sam said, jostling Sebastian like an overexcited two-year-old.

"At least let her see hers first," Sebastian grumbled back.

"It's really that cool?" Lucky asked, jogging over with that effortless smile of hers. Sebastian turned red when she came to look at it over his shoulder and got even redder when she breathed out in surprise.

"Whoa, Seb. I never knew you were such a good photographer." She elbowed him kindly, too happy to learn something new about him. Shane ignored the anger that got caught in the back of his throat and looked away.

The skyscrapers downtown cast shadows for blocks, this greasy spoon's neighborhood humble and human in comparison. It was still definitely urban, though, and Shane watched person after person shuffle past them. No smiles like back home. No hellos, no goodbyes. He could scream his lungs out right here and folks would be too busy thinking about anything else to care. He could sit on the concrete and let the world pass by without anyone knowing the difference. Meaningless in the crowd.

"You're very photogenic," Sebastian replied and Shane bit his tongue.  _Not your business. You're just pathetic,_ he reprimanded himself.

"I wish you could tell that to my mother. I ruined  _so_ many family photos."

Sebastian laughed, shaking his head. "I'm sure you just made them better."

"You're just too nice."

Sebastian wasn't too nice to say anything--he told Sam a million times how dumb he looked while he posed--but Sebastian  _was_ too nice to say that kind of thing to Lucky. And Sam  _did_ look dumb.

Shane could barely stand the thought of getting in front of a camera, much less cycling through melodramatic poses like Sam did. He took photos with Jas on the day of the Feast of the Winter Star so she could have something to look back on, but that was it. No matter who took the photo Shane would rather not have the reminder of how far he had fallen. He had to say no five times until Sam gave up asking and Lucky realized he was serious about this 'group photo' crap.

After it was all said and done and Shane had started wondering why he had agreed to this overgrown sleepover in the first place, they all huddled to decide what they actually wanted to do with the rest of their day. Zuzu was huge, and Shane didn't know the first thing about it. Nothing interesting, at least. So he didn't know why they bothered including him. _Because Lucky's here,_ his lizard brain answered.  _She walked towards you first._

"I want to go to that record store Sam was talking about." Abigail said.

"Oh, yeah, me too. I haven't been in a long time." Sebastian echoed.

Shane thought they were all in agreement until Lucky piped up. "Would you guys mind if I did something different?"

He braced himself. Oh, Yoba. Lucky was going to go off to do something else?  _Kill me now. There's no way she can leave me with-_

Lucky looked at him. "Would you mind coming with me?"

His brain short-circuited a little.

So the others started off to the record store and Shane didn't bother ignoring the look Sebastian threw over his shoulder at the two of them, or the 'don't worry about it, bro!' pat on the back Sam gave him. Any guy could see what a thing Sebastian had for her, even one as in space as Sam.

But since he was the one standing beside her right now, it felt pretty damn good to be Shane for once.

"I hope you don't mind, I just wanted to spend the day following my own footsteps."

Shane nodded even though he didn't know what Lucky meant, smiling her way without really meaning to.  _Sure._ Right now it felt like he could spend a lifetime doing that.

 

* * *

 

 

They went to a hole-in-the-wall cafe for coffee and Shane tried not to lie to himself about it. 

It felt like a date. Like some kind of dream, talking with her over the steam of their cups. Laughing at the face she pulled at the bullshit hipstery acoustic guitar that came on over the radio. He didn't have the heart in him to question her. To open himself up for that 'no' or the distance between them it would create. Lucky was too important.

He followed her along crowded streets to a subway station where they boarded a train called the B line and ended up at a street vendor that sold her a nose ring and some stud earrings she really liked. Shane still didn't get it.

Too afraid to turn the cloud he was walking on back into vapor, he just stood there and nodded as she held up her choices, tongue tied between "I think they look great" and "any of them would look good on you". When Lucky asked if he was okay his mouth opened and nonsense spilled out that weren't any of the compliments he wanted but still managed to be a sentence.

Finally, Lucky said, she wanted one more stop before it got dark. Would he mind?

"Of course not." Was it normal to be embarrassed by basic human decency coming out of your mouth? Of sounding like you actually _enjoyed_ spending time with someone?

The mystery culminated in just one surprise: a big, gray building. A big gray building that felt like it bullied all of the smaller ones out of the way. Shane would have recognized the company that owned his ass anywhere.

JojaCorp. The owners of JojaMart, JojaCola, Jojapeno-fucking-Poppers.

Lucky must have read his face. "I won't be long. This is the one I used to work at--nineteenth floor."

Shane just  _thought_ he was confused before.

She strolled in, waltzed up to some administration desk and gave the girl chewing gum behind it a lazy salute as hello. She asked about a whole list of names and some of them sounded familiar--like Harrison, the I.T. guy who had suggested she go out and start a chicken farm in the first place, or Elena, the motherly woman who she had mentioned his aunt reminded her of. Lucky must have rattled out twenty-five names and all of them were a no.

Shane was surprised when she laughed and thanked the woman like she had done her a favor sitting there with her eyes glazed over. Outside he worked up the nerve to ask. "So, JojaCorp? I thought you hated working for that place."

"I did. Worst job I've ever had."

"But you wanted to...check in?" Shane frowned.

"Oh, fuck no." Lucky laughed, pulling him to the side while a bike whizzed past close enough to touch. She didn't even pause, motioning for him to start walking again. "I mean--I guess, kinda? Not Joja, though."

Shane jogged a little to match her. "Those were all employees, though, right?"

"Used to be." Lucky grinned, her eyes crinkling. "They got out. That's all I cared about."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Shane's so insecure it makes him hopelessly jealous, jeez. Sebastian takes a nice photo and Shane's off to the side muttering under his breath, lmao. Question of the chapter is, then-- Anyone here actually like the idea of Lucky and Sebastian together? Think they could ever be a good fit?
> 
> Oh, and P.S.: I keep meaning to mention it but in case y'all haven't noticed I try to only respond to comments when I post the next chapter. Both as a poor man's notification system (because I never notice updates in my own emails lol!) and partly as a motivation for myself to keep working. Thanks again for all of your lovely words; I'm a sap and they kill me haha <3


	24. Treehouse

 

It was threatening to rain. Or snow, maybe--Shane didn't know how cold it was.

On the way to the restaurant to meet her friends, Lucky got distracted by a bodega filled with what looked a hell of a lot like contraband. Gotoro soda, chips, trinkets. Anything you could think of that was cute and also probably illegal. Lucky was a crow at heart and he enjoyed watching her explore, all black among the swarm of colorful packaging crammed on short shelves. She must have picked up half the stuff in there just to show him.

Aggressively red eye shadow, cheap disposable cameras, magic 8 balls. It didn't have any rhyme or reason and she enjoyed the chaos.

Shane didn't realize he was having fun until he stopped. It was stupid, honestly--someone laid on their horn outside; pissed off and obviously fine. He caught the swerve of tail lights and a middle finger out the window, but it still sent him back to that place where snow fell on two deathly still cars. The cut of headlights through the dark...Eric's jacket in the road.

When Lucky put her hand on his shoulder he jumped. "You okay?" She asked, and the look on her face was...it was the type of thing that made Shane feel crazy for thinking there was anything keeping them apart in the first place. He was just a person to her. Even when it had taken alcohol and three hours of hyping himself up just to get on the bus out here.

He wanted to tell her everything. In some fluorescent shop hidden from the world, cutting himself open didn't sound so bad.

But Shane thought about the consequences for once. Of course the selfish part of him wanted to have her in on it, just like any kid wanted to invite someone else into their secret tree house. That was the nature of a secret--if it wasn't shared it almost didn't happen. There were days he wanted to lay in the Valley and scream about it--about Eric and his guilt and unbearable weight it felt like he carried by himself. But he didn't. He slogged through the days instead. Didn't talk about it with Marnie. Didn't tell Jas.

It was the anchor that weighed him down and it was supposed to be  _his_ responsibility.

Marnie had loved Eric, too, but it was different. Losing his brother had meant losing his best friend. Losing himself. And now his aunt could only look at him like she was wondering what the hell had happened when they both knew the answer. It was in the pain that numbed him and the alcohol that numbed that.

He pretended not to notice the way Jas had to grip her mom's shirt just to sleep some nights.

But what would it mean telling Lucky that the day after tomorrow was the worst day of his year,  _every year?_ It would mean the same thing it would mean for Jas. The same thing it meant for him. Misery. It would ruin this trip for her. You only realized once you were in the tree house that there wasn't a ladder to get back down.

He smiled at Lucky. "Yeah, I'm okay."

She shook her head. "I'll be really damn surprised if you ever say anything else." Her smile--even a little sad--made his heart twist in his chest. "Everyone drives like assholes here," she said with a shrug, tucking a stray piece of hair behind her ear. "They act like left-hand turns are a capital offense."

Shane shook his head but it got a smile out of him. Lucky looked like that was all she needed.

Somehow she shooed him off long enough to check out and he spent his time squinting at all the clutter hanging from the windows. He could only guess a lot of them were charms from Gotoro for luck or money or love, and they clunked together instead of having bells like he expected.

He almost missed the jellyfish tucked away in the corner.

It was a small and bright blue, blown glass legs wrapped together like it was caught in a net. Shane freed it and started untangling, careful not to get too excited and hurt it's delicate limbs. It was perfect. Jas would think it was the cutest thing ever and he could hear her debating where it should hang already. _By her door? In her window? In the kitchen?_ She'd be so happy she'd take a whole day to decide.

Lucky grinned ear to ear as soon as she saw the jellyfish. "Shane! Jas'll _love_ that!" Her own bag hung in the crook of her arm, crinkling and forgotten in an instant.

She couldn't help but tap his arm in excitement but held the chime as gently as she would a chick and turned it to catch all of it's details in the light. It's imperfections sent spots of color trailing across her face while she complimented his find--blue, purple, a heartbeat's worth of green.

Shane didn't have to say a word. Couldn't. Lucky was the only other person who knew how much it would mean to Jas. He had forgotten what love felt like, but this tore his heart to shreds before he knew what to call it. Full, empty. Happy, sad. Something screamed at him to run--that it should have been Eric here and that he would only turn her gray. That anything good ended too soon. But there was something about Lucky sparkling in front of him that laughed at that idea at all.

Shane didn't feel cold on the inside with her around. Instead, the burn was almost too much to take. What did people do with all these emotions? Where did they go? It had been too long since he had a drink.

He made sure the jellyfish was wrapped tightly in it's newspaper, thanked the cashier, and wasn't paying any attention when he crossed the street. Lucky was.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay it's so late it's early and this chapter is kind of a mess honestly, but it has a certain heart I feel like rewriting it might extinguish. I may edit it later (like any chapter of Gray is "edited" lol), so please let me know if anything strikes a particular chord. That way it can be saved from my chopping block, haha. Thanks!! <3
> 
> If you feel like this chapter is off then no worries--we'll be back to status-quo next chapter. I also may just be being paranoid about it, too, lol. Always a writer possibility. :'D Thanks for reading!


	25. Cab Jumper

 

Being dead didn't scare Shane--he'd thought about it long enough that he'd come to terms with the idea of nothingness. Of slipping out of consciousness and never slipping back in. Just like turning off a light or closing a door. It was dying that he was afraid of. Of his eyes fluttering closed for the last time only to see all the things he hadn't done right.

If he had believed in fate he would have said he called it to himself. Headlights came up so fast he just waited for the feeling of all his bones snapping, of blood gushing out and the slow death he had always imagined for himself. The slow death Eric had gotten. Funny, all he had time to think was _'Was it this fast for you?'_ and he was thrown forward, hands digging into his back and the comparatively comforting trip of a drunken stupor welcoming him instead.

He heard the car hit--something distinctly metal on flesh--but it wasn't him. It wasn't him.

Shane couldn't do a damn thing except watch the wind chime--so carefully wrapped, so desperately cared for--shatter into a thousand pieces in front of him. It broke the same way fireworks exploded, throwing color into the gutter for a moment no one else got to see. One brilliant shimmer the last of Jas' gift. She'd never get to see it.

"Fucker!"

Shane went so cold it burned. Lucky. No, no, no, _no._  He hauled himself up in a panic to see her with her hands on the hood of the car that he thought would end him.

He couldn't take his eyes off the blood that ran down her leg, even as she yelled at the driver and slammed her fists down against it's bright yellow. So angry it was like she didn't even feel it. Shane couldn't feel _anything._ Like a tape that skipped over and over, he looked at her and saw a funeral. The weight of a coffin on his shoulder. Jas crying in his lap, inconsolable. Two cars with their doors open in the snow, mangled together in one last embrace. A cop's insistent hands blocking him. "Sir, you don't want to see." "Sir, you don't want to see."

_"Sir, you don't want to see."_

The driver leaned out the window and snipped back, kicking it into reverse before Lucky was done going through every insult you could call someone. _Had she really just..?_ Lucky picked him up before he could form a coherent question and practically hauled him across the street, looking a lot more like the girl that would get her nose broken in a fight than the one who made a fairy pumpkin patch just for his niece.

It took him a block to realize she was just _going._  He tugged her to a stop. "Lucky, wait! Are you okay?"

"Fine." She grit it through her teeth like it was obligation, freeing her shaking hand. She wheeled around and kicked a newspaper box so hard it's cheap metal dented, running her hands through her hair and looking anywhere but at him. When she started talking again it didn't even sound like her. "No, I'm not. I'm angry. Very angry. Which is natural, given the situation. I'm angry because I was scared and someone I care about was in danger. It's a reaction, but-" She squeezed her eyes shut, her mantra obviously hard to focus on. "But destructive anger is not helpful. Not helpful."

She took deep breaths, counting with each one. It took until twenty-three for her to look any calmer. "Are _you_ okay?" she asked, reopening green eyes that looked a lot more like the Lucky he knew. Shane practically stuttered.

"I'm-you're the one who got hit by a car."

Saying it out loud cemented it in reality and sent another wave of sickness through him. He was right back at that place he never wanted to be. Lucky's leather jacket replacing Eric's coat. Living in a world without her...

"I just got tapped. Cabs are always fucking running red lights, but with all the traffic they're never going that fast. The bumper just scraped me."

"You could have _died._ " The words crawled up from the bottom of his throat like an animal finding a place to decompose.

Lucky pulled a cigarette from the jacket still confidently slung around her shoulders, the usual one tucked behind her ear no doubt somewhere in the intersection. Fine. By pure chance. A few seconds or a few miles away from being as dead as his brother and more concerned about patting her pockets for a lighter.

"No way. Really, don't worry about it," she said around her cigarette. "I'm a cab jumper from way back."

She managed a half-ass smile. Shane didn't know how. He felt like breaking down completely. "I had enough room to hop back and everything--it just scared me. Now, you? You could've gotten hurt," she elbowed him teasingly, "I'm just sorry Jas' jellyfish broke. Well, and that I got so angry. Guess I should check in with my therapist more often, huh?"

"I'm serious."

Shane made Lucky stare back into his eyes, but she refused to acknowledge the gravity of it. Like how the rhubarb pie could have been for "anyone" when they both knew damn well she made it just for him. She looked away instead.

As they walked she started getting talkative in that chipper way that said she wanted him to forget it; spouting off bullshit directions and landmarks he didn't care about. She wasn't about to get serious and let him thank her or yell or...he didn't know _what_ he felt like. Shane couldn't forget.

Didn't forget it when they got to the restaurant or when she introduced everyone to her old friends, either. Bette was short and friendly and Mac was tall and loud and he couldn't give less of a fuck about either of them.

The longer he sat in silence between Abigail and Bette the angrier he got. Before, he would have been anxious about meeting her friends. Would have felt some weird need to impress them. But Lucky could have died and here she was, cracking jokes and talking about old times. It made his blood pressure spike.

Halfway through dinner Bette turned his way and, ignoring how miserable he must have looked, made the mistake of talking to him. She had blunt black bangs and red lips, looking exactly like the type of kindhearted person Lucky would gravitate to. The same type of person that would be crushed if she got hit by a car and died for someone as worthless as him.

So when she asked what he was thinking he told her. Blurted out that Lucky had been hit by a car and felt morbidly justified by the way they all froze in shock. And then it wasn't just him that knew; everyone jumped down her throat with questions, wondering how hyperbolic he was being and if she was okay and a million other things.

She shrugged and told it as minimally as possible, no doubt cursing him in her head. Chewed her tongue when Sam pointed out her leg and had to flash a smile just to get the Pelican Town crowd to calm down.

In contrast, Bette just sighed and Mac actually laughed. "Cab jumping, huh?"

"You aren't done with that scary stuff by now? Didn't you learn your lesson?"

"Oh, you're such a mother hen, Bette. You didn't see how awesome that roof jump was last time, anyway. I didn't think you could actually hit the pool from that far. Lucky's just made for that type of shit, alright?" Shane's gut twisted. _No, she's fucking not._ It was insane just listening to that--Lucky could have been just as dead as anyone and at least everyone else had the decency to know it.

If Shane didn't like Mac when he laughed about the cab incident he probably hated him by the time he ordered a pitcher of alcohol to celebrate it.

The noodle shop sold some really strong shit that smelled like hand sanitizer from three feet away and they all got tiny shot glasses placed in front of them. Shane stared at his for a long time--he really wanted to, but it wouldn't just be one. Taking the edge off became sanding himself down, and right now he already felt paper thin.

He couldn't.

He had to talk to Lucky later, and he had to be himself when he did it. No matter how much it hurt. She had to know and he had to say it.

Their eyes locked for the first time since they sat down and Lucky quickly looked back at Mac, who was crowded in beside her. His mohawk made him taller than he was, and he threw his weight around trying to talk her into a drink. Shane was surprised when she said no. He was even more surprised when Mac came back with a shot of water for her instead and it sent her into a coughing fit, wheezing that it tasted like cheap vodka. Mac cackled like a red hyena, proud of _"getting her"._

"That stuff is brutal, huh, Luck? That's what you get for trying to duck out of a celebration." He patted her back, her glare eventually withering into the kind of exasperation that said she was used to him crushing her boundaries.

Shane crossed his arms and resigned himself to wait out this dinner. Even if it killed him.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We're officially at 25! I've never posted 25 chapters of anything, and I'm so psyched I decided to stick with this fic. It has well over 100 kudos and comments, I love writing it, and I appreciate all your support!
> 
> Everyone's comments last chapter officially murdered me and consider all of yourselves screenshotted into my 'writing inspiration' folder, haha. When I started I honestly never imagined anyone could ever feel that strongly about something I wrote. It's the best feeling ever to know what y'all think and I want to sincerely thank you all for your words and your time <3


	26. Blues

Dinner lasted forever.  


Shane felt the walls creeping closer and closer until they left, spit out into the street and finally able to breathe something that wasn't stale air. It still smelled a little like a dumpster, but Shane couldn't say he was surprised. He was surrounded by skyscrapers and smog. Not everywhere could be the Valley. That was what he was supposed to like about it, right?

He sighed, rolling his shoulders and distinctly  _not_  saying anything while everyone thanked Mac for picking up their tab. Lucky was sparkling, a cheesy grin thrown over her shoulder and mouth going a mile a minute to keep everything lively. The mood was festive and Mac walked with them all the way to their subway station, his laugh bouncing off the tiled walls as they went.

Shane didn't say a whole lot. The light feeling he had carried around with him earlier was crushed, and Sam's chipperness didn't make it feel any less dire. Like that was news. Eventually, he clapped a hand down on Shane's shoulder and seriously looked at him. "Don't get all debbie downer on us, dude. We're in the city!" He flashed his new tongue piercing, trying to jostle some life back into him. Shane was just jostled.

Lucky waved back out the window as Mac became a quickly receding blur, joining Abigail and Bette's talk about upcoming events and not looking at him at all until they had settled in at Bette's place. It was squeezed into the fifth floor of an old brick apartment building overlooking the street, with dark, minimal furniture and nothing out of place. Shane felt dirty just walking in, but Bette handed them all piles of blankets and pillows and pulled out a foldout couch, telling them all to land where they felt comfortable.

Shane would have appreciated what a relaxed host she was if he had been paying any attention. Instead, all he could think about was how Lucky hadn't taken her jacket off, and how she hung around the door while everyone else was grabbing their shit from earlier and bickering over who went where.

Well, really it was Sam and Abigail bickering. Sebastian took a loveseat and told Sam to let her have the bed. It was only polite. Bette laughed at that, crowing something about gentlemen that made Abigail go red.

No one else noticed how antsy Lucky was until she had a cup of coffee and said she was going to head out for a bit. "It's late, though," Sebastian said, uncertainly shifting back and forth. "Want me to come with you?"

Lucky smiled. "No, thanks. I'm fine. I won't be gone long, anyway. I just...need a walk." Her eyes met Shane's just long enough to look guilty before everyone was telling her to be safe and she was hustling out the door like she couldn't leave fast enough. To get away from him, it felt like.

Shane held in his sigh and paced around, trying to walk slow enough that it didn't seem like he was doing it. He had a cup of coffee just to drink  _something,_  staring at the glare thrown onto the window from never ending traffic below. His jaw was scratchy and he hated the feeling of it against his palm but rubbed anyway. Something better than nothing.

The kitchen was so small it made Lucky's back home look palatial, but it gave him the degree of separation from everyone else he needed to breathe. It was hard to think of words--where could he even start? It was all going to sound like bullshit coming from him, but if no one else was going to say it how could he not? Mac's hyena laugh came back to him, just like the genuine hug he had given Lucky before they had separated did. How could you care about someone and not feel your heart drop to your gut when you heard something like that?

After Bette called it a night, the energy started to wind down into something a lot drowsier. He'd walk to the living room to Sam down, then Abigail, then Sebastian. They talked a little, muffled and unconcerned about his presence. Happy to relive the day and wonder what the concert tomorrow would be like. Asking each other if they thought a band from Stardew Valley would ever make it.

It was a welcome distraction from his mounting anxiety. When they all fell quiet Shane started going over Bette's photos instead, surprised at how many of them had Lucky in them. Her hair was what dated them--green, jet black, the dark caramel-ish color that had started coming in at her roots again. What was she in some of these, eighteen? She scowled at the camera a lot, and Shane couldn't tell if she was unhappy or just young.

It felt nosy, staring at her in the past. Like he didn't have a right to see it if she wasn't the one shoving a photo album in his hands. When the door started opening he went to get another cup of coffee, preferring to act like he had been doing anything else instead. He peeked out as it closed, reluctantly amused by how slowly she did it to avoid waking anyone up.

He shook his head and poured her a cup, too, offering it out as a silent token in the dark. Lucky looked surprised. "I didn't know you were up," she whispered. "Is Bette asleep, too?" She stepped closer and took the mug, thanking him.

He nodded. She sighed--something that looked odd on her--and waited a few seconds before she said anything else. "Want to sit with me while I smoke?" Shane's frustration was so easily tempered by the blunt way she said it, like she knew what he was going to say and was preparing herself for it already.

She unlatched the window by Sam's bed, slowly creaking it open to get to the fire escape outside. "Careful, there's a nail on the right corner," she whispered, ducking out into the night. Shane followed, reminded of how he had swung a leg out his window and stumbled into the dark after her before. He was sober this time, and the wind actually stung at his skin the way it was supposed to.

He swallowed around the worry in his throat and found it was easier to sit beside her if he didn't look directly at her. Lucky slipped her legs through the gaps in the bars mindlessly, swinging them over the pavement below and sipping on her coffee. When he didn't say anything, she felt the need to fill the silence. "I used to live here, you know."

"I know," he said. That was why they were here--why he had stepped foot on a bus to Zuzu City in the first place.

"No, I mean  _here_  here. I shared this apartment with Bette for about five years."  _Oh._  He thought of Lucky's eclectic house, and all her weird horror movie posters and record shelves. It was hard to imagine what their compromise must have been. "I used to drive her nuts. Bring home one life-sized skeleton and all of a sudden I'm not allowed to decorate the place."

She laughed, but it was weak. An attempt to make them both feel less like they were choking. The wind blew out her lighter for her trouble.

"You know I'm angry, right?"

Lucky's lips quirked. "Yeah. 'Cause of the whole cab thing. But really, Shane, I-"

"It's the dumbest thing I've ever seen you do." It all bubbled back up--the blare of a horn, the jellyfish shattering, the  _sound_  of her getting hit. "It's the dumbest thing you  _could_  have done. I didn't ask you to do it and I didn't want you to do it. Did you even  _think_  before you stepped into the fucking intersection?"

Lucky's voice made him look at her again, and that was a mistake. Her eyes were unvarnished, flashing dark and challenging. "No, I didn't. And I'd do it again."

Shane's heart stopped.

"Fuck you." The words landed like a slap between them. "It's not fucking cool--any of it--not jumping into a pool or some skateboard trick or getting in a fight. You think that's fucking worth anything? That you're  _'made for that'_  ? You know how horrible it would be without you? How much Jas would cry? You'd be all anyone talked about for months, and then I'd have to sit on the fence and stare at your fucking house and know you weren't in it anymore." He was tired of kidding himself--of sitting beside her and pretending he could see anything in front of him through the tears.

"Shane, it's not the same. All that other stuff was different, I promise."

"You jumped in front of a cab!"

"Only because it was going to hit you."

"Exactly. You should have let it."

Silence.

"So, what? You aren't worth anything? Why do you get to decide that and I can't?"

"Because you don't know what it's like to have someone you care about die. To wake up every morning and think about seeing them--wishing you could tell them all your good news and living knowing there's no real justification for why you can't."

Lucky folded her legs up, wrapping her arms around them and taking a moment to lean her forehead against her knees and breathe. Her eyes were teary and she looked like she'd rather be anywhere else. "I guess this is what I get for not explaining myself." She started, letting out a bitter laugh that said she knew she was going to be here eventually. "You know how when we went around the city I said I was following my own footsteps?"

Shane nodded even though that dream felt years away instead of hours.

"I meant it; everywhere we went I used to go all the time. Some of my favorite places, too. But I lived right here almost five straight years and did one person recognize me?"

Shane paused, letting it sink in. Her favorite coffee shop, her favorite store, and she was right. There was no light in anyone's eyes when they saw her. No idle conversation. A blank nothingness that said they had already forgotten you before you left.   


Stardew had adopted Lucky without thought, and it hadn't taken a week for everyone to know who she was. "All I ever wanted was to feel like I made a difference. Like I did one thing someone would notice or care about. I started losing myself--the world moved on and I was always alone in a crowd. What Mac was talking about was my way of breaking the monotony. I'd break a leg just to entertain; to feel a moment of fresh air, you know?"

"Yeah," Shane managed, drowning in his thoughts. Bottles instead of bones. Judged instead of unknown. It was validating and crushing to hear it coming out of Lucky's mouth.  


"I used to sit out here all the time and think about jumping. I was always the problem child. That's why I got sent to the Valley over the summer in the first place. Stupid, second best, and angry about it. Angry about everything. I blamed it on everyone but me and couldn't run far off enough to feel free from it."

_Jumping._  The word physically hurt to hear, like his heart was being crushed under the weight of his ribs.  


"That's why Alex hates me. I spent every summer with the only person who felt like I did and when I came back I was too ashamed to even visit his grandparents' house until they invited me. I had that brief moment of freedom from myself--of who I used to be--and I didn't want to be the person I was at fourteen any more than I wanted to be who I was here." Tears trailed down her face and dripped off her chin, so miserable and genuine Shane felt guilty making her admit to all of it.

But there wasn't a thing he could do now. She had ripped out all of her stitches just to show him how they bled, and Shane wasn't enough of a man to know how to numb that pain. He drank so he didn't have to.

"I'm sorry I was selfish and you spent the end of the day worrying about me, but I won't agree that you aren't worth risking anything for. I only did it because it was you."

_Only because it was you._

Shane felt everything at such a fever pitch it made him sick to his stomach--sad and touched and unbearably close and afraid of it.

In the moment, he didn't think, either. Just crushed Lucky into a hug and felt her bury her head into his shoulder. The same hands that had thrown him forward touched him so gently it made him lightheaded, tracing comforting circles into his back. Neither of them leaning or being leaned on.

For the first time, Shane didn't feel like a man who was trying to drag the sky into the sea to save himself. Only someone who had never realized the sky was just a different shade of blue.

  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope everyone's as excited about this chapter as I am!! <3


	27. Alive

They stayed on the fire escape talking--really talking--for a long time. Shane told Lucky everything he could stand to about Eric. His love of painting miniatures for board game night, his eclectic music taste, those painful colorblind outfit choices he rocked, how nervous he had been about being a father.

Everything except the small fact he was dead.

It was bittersweet. So easy to sit here and talk with her like Eric was just out of town--somewhere 'else'. Too easy to slip into the fantasy of bridging the gap between who he had lost and who he'd gained.

"You two would get along great."

Lucky brightened. "You think so? I'd love to meet him sometime."

Shane looked away. Stared at the glare of traffic below with shame burning a hole in his gut. He just couldn't do it. Saying it out loud was just...He looked at Lucky again. Lucky who had been so open and vulnerable. Lucky who had let him into her own tree house no matter how much it hurt.

She was a better person than he was. "I'd love that, too."

 

* * *

 

 

He took so much for granted with Lucky--that she was putting up mazes and filling her fridge with desserts because she had always been that way. The Valley, Pelican Town, everything he dreamed of getting away from...how could it be so bad? It was _him._ Shane shoved his head into his pillow, feeling fifteen instead of almost thirty. Was it wrong to be angry?

He didn't like his own answer, so he went back to being sad instead. Sad was comfortable. Who was he if he wasn't moping with a beer in his hand, anyways?

He dug in his bag for the travel size bottle he had brought with him and closed his eyes when it burned. Just to go to sleep. To have that familiar numb back instead.

Part of him was relieved. If even Lucky felt that way... No. He buried his head in his pillow. No. It still didn't mean he wasn't just using her as a crutch. Alex was right. Anything else he felt didn't justify it. He was lying to her, talking about Eric like he was still around. Too weak and latched on to the idea of it being _his problem._

It wasn't like Shane had to remind himself of the anniversary, either, but he spent plenty of hours lying awake thinking about that, too. It was so close. Shane was still waiting for the year it didn't feel like yesterday. This was his best chance--a big city, Lucky, friends. If Shane could throw himself into something "fun" like all of this, wasn't that his best chance? Not like it would ever be the same, but...Shane liked the idea of a chance for once. Just a moment where he could really breathe again.

Zuzu's paltry bird population was awake by the time Shane fell into whatever could be classified as sleep. It wasn't exactly fitful--back to back nightmares hardly counted as 'rest', but this close to the anniversary they were a given. Shane couldn't find any amount of alcohol that got rid of them, at least. It just distorted them. Mixed up time and places and took him from staring at the frozen scene to behind the wheel. Drinking.

Driving the other car.

He woke up shaking and Lucky's grip on his shoulder tightened. "Shane," she said. Shane sucked in a deep breath, half there and half gone. Coming closer with every lungful of warm air. It wasn't cold. He wasn't there. Wasn't there...

"Are you okay?" Shane blinked and saw Lucky in full. She was frowning again, kneeling with her arm out like Jas did to strays. Touching him like she felt the fear that radiated through him.

Shane nodded numbly, his throat thick with the shame of waking up in a cold sweat.

Lucky sighed, dropping her head just long enough for him to notice she still hadn't let go of him. "Okay," she relented.

"Yeah, I'm okay..." Shane didn't know why he said it anymore. Force of habit. Societal pressure. _Guilt._

Lucky's voice was low, and he saw the others over her shoulder for the first time. Stretched out, chatting, tying shoes or throwing on jackets. "I let you sleep in, but we're heading to see Bette and Mac's show soon. You still want to come?"

"Yeah." Shane forced a smile.

"Come on then, dude!" Sam was suddenly paying attention, sending his old shirt sailing across the room to smother him in the smell of sweat. That was one way to really wake up, Shane guessed, and weakly tossed it back his way while Sam laughed. How sad that he was actually grateful for the mood lightener.

It quieted the worry in Lucky's eyes, at least.

 

* * *

 

 

The building was hot and packed, rumbling with noise just aching to rattle the floorboards already. Between the smell of hairspray and cigarette smoke, Shane didn't want to know how flammable the place was.

He had packed one of Eric's shirts for today. It was for a band called FAILURE that Lucky had talked about before, and he'd wear it for the show and his vigil tomorrow. He always liked to wear Eric's stuff when he visited the cemetery--that was why they always smelled like spirits instead of beer.

Shane felt the ghosts of his dream on the subway, so he didn't say much. Mostly listened while Bette and Mac joked about dragging Lucky on stage with them. Lucky brushed them off but she looked different today, too. A simple black shirt and jeans, yeah, but double her usual amount of metal. A chain at her waist, three different sets of studs, and the new nose ring she had bought on their not-date. No, Shane could tell she was excited.

He wondered if anyone else noticed.

In comparison, Shane followed after her in the venue with his arms crossed over his chest, hunched over with the sudden fear of being outed as a poser. Here, in the belly of the beast, he was an old whale washed onto the shore. Just waiting for the sticks and knives to start poking around his chest. _'I love Failure!' 'Nice shirt!' 'What's your favorite album?'_ Waiting for it; for his stuttering, pathetic truth--in front of Lucky, of course--to come spilling out about how it was his brother's.

And Lucky would ask why it was so important to be in his perfectly okay brother's shirt and he'd have to man up or dig his lie by omission one foot deeper. Both possibilities made him want to turn the fucking shirt inside out.

He was a disgusting liar and the anniversary was supposed to be his problem.

Bette and Mac headed backstage since the first band was coming on soon and Lucky joked about them ditching to get their shit together. They wished the pair luck and huddled up alongside a wall while Sam shot off question after question about this place and how easy it was to be booked.

Lucky wasn't being humble when she said it was small; JojaCorp cubicles probably gave you more breathing room, but so many people had showed they were definitely violating some kind of fire code. That must have felt good as one of the band. Lucky smiled. "Yeah, it's a hell of a feeling. We were always regulars here."

The more they talked, the less he worried about his dreams. When the first band came on Lucky just leaned closer and they kept talking. Shane didn't notice Sebastian's absence from Lucky's side until Sam snapped in front of his face while he was off staring into space. "Careful, man. Stare any harder and you'll drool."

Sebastian broke out of his trance. "Sorry, I was just..."

"I know--you've never been here before and are staring very desperately at hot girls over there. Realizing your world just got that much bigger. I getcha. I feel you, bro, but, like, I'm talking our future here."

"No!" Sebastian went bright red, and Shane was surprised when he didn't immediately glance at Lucky like he usually did when he was embarrassed. "I was just...thinking."

"About hot girls. I know." Sam loved winding him up and Sebastian fell into it so easily, so Abigail jumped in like always to defend him. Shane looked back at Lucky. There was a certain thrill seeing that her eyes were still on him.

Maybe all his worrying about Lucky and Sebastian was stupid. Maybe it was just different now.

The first band would have given Shane a headache if they had lasted much longer, and Lucky leaned in to joke about it. He was glad he wasn't just such a grandpa he didn't "get it" anymore. Granted, he was miles away from his comfort zone, but there was something appealing about all of it. Eric had always insisted he was an all-black kind of guy at heart, even when he lived in a letterman. Shane had always felt the pressure of what he was "supposed to be" overriding anything else.

But it was the Enablers--Lucky's old band--they were all waiting for. During the set change she told him to grab her jacket and they pushed through the crowd together, making it closer without getting separated. Shane couldn't have been paid enough to let go.

Sam kept close and they all managed to make a good little circle right in the center. It was hot, and personal space nonexistent. Lucky was right in front of him and Shane was assaulted by the thought of wrapping his arms around her. It would be so comfortable, and that made it a lot more embarrassing than a lot of his sexual thoughts for some reason. Hell, he hadn't thought of just _wrapping his arms_ around a girl since his last serious college girlfriend. He stuffed his hands in his pockets.

Mac, a bright red guitar slung around his shoulders, wasted no time in announcing his presence. He spoke for himself, hyping up the crowd and talking shit. He got a few laughs while Bette and the rest of the band set up, and the crowd reacted as soon as the first chord came on.

It was fun, in a hectic _"I'm at the front and feel like a mosh pit is forming somewhere to my back right"_ kind of way. Lucky turned around to grin at him and Shane smiled back.

Mac's voice was strong and scratchy, like a chain-smoking doberman. Sam could never kill his intense golden retriever friendliness, but Shane guessed the appeal was just different. Lucky planted her feet and did the public service of shoving moshers back towards the center when a pit formed in front of them. She looked like if she missed one thing about her old life, it was this. The slam of the crowd and punch of guitars.

Lucky wanted it. It was hard to do anything--go to work, eat, sleep, drink--without worrying what other people thought. Shane let alcohol make a lot of his decisions. Alcohol or Morris or the fear that everything good left eventually. But this was one chance Shane didn't want to run from.

In every likelihood this trip would be his last of a lot of things. Last time in Zuzu, last show, last time to do something for Lucky she wouldn't do for herself. The first, too. So he wiped his sweaty hand on his jeans and took her wrist, running his mouth about how they should get closer even though he knew it was loud enough she couldn't hear him clearly. He just needed Mac to see her and he'd do the rest...

 

* * *

 

 

Whatever Shane had thought watching Lucky on stage would be, it was better. Lucky stared at him as soon as Mac called her name, looking like she wasn't sure if she wanted to thank him or ask what the hell he did it for. But it just took one more challenge and she was slipping past shoulders and hitting the barrier without a second thought, reaching out to Mac's waiting hand.

He overextended and pulled her up into the light. Sam called out her name like a drunken frat boy and Abigail followed suit.

Lucky grinned, looking out into the sea of faces as soon as she was on stage. Shane didn't know how she looked so comfortable, all eyes on her while Mac tossed her a mic and slung an arm around her to introduce her.

Some whistles came from the crowd and it was probably all the beers Mac got handed in between songs that got him to joke that she was single. The crowd still seemed to like the idea.

Shane kept waiting for their bassist to bow out. He didn't. Shane didn't get what was happening when Mac started talking about if anyone knew their old shit they'd recognize her right off the bat and then  _started._

Mac sang and Lucky joined him. It wasn't Sam waiting to fill the silence on  _DEMO #1_ 's last track. It was Lucky.

Shane looked for their friends in the crowd just to see if he was the only one who was surprised. When she told stories about being in the band, Shane had always assumed bass was all she did. He had never heard her sing...had he? _Oh, shit._

Shane's gut dropped instantly. Marnie always got on him for his forgetfulness, did he blackout? Or worse, ignored it when she mentioned it in the first place? How could he have forgotten _that?_

No. No way. The goosebumps that ran up his arms...it had to be the first time.

Thank Yoba it wasn't weird to stare; Shane probably would have done it anyway, stuck in his mix of shock and whatever it was that made his heart pump so fast. Shane couldn't think about it.

Glimmering under hot stage lights and playing off Mac, running and jumping and having a great time, Lucky sang her heart out. Yelled some of it, too, matching Mac's energy level like it was a challenge. Shane felt like he was up there with her. His heart on his sleeve, outgoing, happy. Alive by osmosis.

Everything he chased so desperately felt so close all he'd have to do was reach out and Lucky would take his hand and he'd have it.

Life was interesting when Lucky was around, and when she was that happy? Shane could honestly say he was glad to be there. Even if he killed himself before he ever saw it again.

So Shane just focused on her--all black and shining silver, how her voice cut through the air and gave him goosebumps. Not serious even on stage, she beamed with cheesy grins and worked up the crowd until the mosh pit was big enough it forced him closer to the stage. Shane knew he imagined meeting her eyes; that was what everyone in _every_ crowd thought.

Shane was certain until her steady gaze stayed and her grin warmed so much he couldn't help but _feel_ it.

It made everything she had thrown Mac's way look like scraps.

It was as intense as the stare she had given him when she got her piercing, and his mind raced with a bunch of hopeless thoughts about what could be between them. Shane couldn't take in a real breath until she looked away.

 

* * *

 

He jumped when Sam slapped a hand down on his shoulder after the show was over and didn't really hear him when he talked. Just dumbly nodded and tried not to act fluttery. It was nothing...right? That's what he told himself when he saw her again, sandwiched between Bette and Mac and laughing. Sam crashed into her, no idea what _"playing it cool"_ meant.

He got her in a headlock while he complimented her, on her for not recording anything for _their_ band yet. So Shane _was_ the only one that didn't know.

They settled at a table in the back he hadn't been able to see with all the people before, and it wasn't long until members of other bands joined in for one big post-show drink. They dragged stools over and some gave Lucky special hellos, saying they were glad to see her back again. She remembered all their names and had to wave off three different offers of a drink.

"Just do us a favor and cut Mac off," Bette joked. Lucky laughed and Mac downed his drink just to prove a point.

"You guys always get so touchy when I drink. Can't a guy have a little fun?"

Lucky looked incredulous. "Alcohol doesn't impair your judgement--it takes a bat to it, Mac." The other bands snickered. Shane guessed they had all seen plenty of his escapades, too.

"You're no fun these days, " he grumbled back. "What are you, anyway, my mother? You went to live out in the boonies."

One of the more talkative band members looked surprised. "No way. Get many gigs out in the Valley?"

Lucky laughed. "Oh yeah, the scene is killer."

"It's lame as fuck. You're wasting your talent." Bette elbowed Mac, who didn't even flinch in his stare down of Lucky. It suddenly didn't feel so carefree. "There's no way you can like that shit. Raising chickens and talking to old people. No fuckin' way. Not the Luck I know. When are you gonna tell us it's all some weird prank?"

Lucky steeled herself. "I'm not."

"When are you coming back?" Shane's stomach dropped.

"I'm not."

The silence was so tense the guy who had brought it up in the first place tried to diffuse the situation. "Hey, man, let's just cool-"

"Fuck that. Luck, are you for real? You just disappear and come back to say hi?"

Lucky's knuckles were white, but she was keeping her temper. "Yeah. And I didn't 'just disappear', anyway. It took me two weeks to get my stuff together. You knew."

"Yeah, but I..." Mac suddenly shut up, backing down but unable to resist bitching into his beer about her _"playing house"_ in the Valley.

That was it for Lucky. Shane could see it on her face. She hung in there just long enough that it wouldn't look like she was leaving just to get away from him and excused herself. Shane stole her schtick and waited just long enough to follow her. He wasn't about to out to everyone how much that must have hurt.

The bathroom was cramped, white tiled walls dyed red by the neon and black by the years of marker scrawled messages. Lucky leaned against the sink, staring down at the basin and looking more sad than angry. She smiled when she saw it was him. "Hey. I'm a real bitch, huh?"

"Hey," Shane replied dumbly. He didn't have to say anything for her to know he'd never think that about her. He let the door swing closed and stood behind her. "You okay?"

With anyone else, this small of a space would've left him miserably awkward. Choked. Lucky's sad smile made everything else seem petty and insincere. It was the cloud her silver lining lived in.

"This would be the perfect opportunity to show you what it feels like to be told 'I'm okay' when we both know 'okay' doesn't factor into it, but I'll save you the lecture," she teased.

"Why didn't you ever sing for me?" Somehow that question wasn't hard to ask. It just kind of came out of his mouth while he stared at her in the mirror and he didn't regret it.

"I-" Lucky laughed, turning around to face him. "Honestly? It felt weird. I normally sing by myself. On stage with Mac it's all so fast it doesn't matter."

With her turned towards him, the space between them was so small Shane could feel how warm she was. It took the fluttering feeling he had earlier and turned it into a pounding.

"The one thing Mac is right about is that you're talented," he managed. Ignoring the desire that pulled him closer. The desire that could ruin everything. "Everything else is just jealous bullshit."

Lucky laughed again, wiping at her eyes and getting some shine back. "I know I should probably just tell him why I left, but he's not good at saying when something hurts him. Gets angry instead of being honest. I wish I could tell him, but it scares me." She shook her head. "Don't think he's a bad guy--he's not. Mac just..."

"Wouldn't get it?" Shane offered quietly.

"Not like you, at least." Lucky's eyes held his, and Shane was afraid she'd hear how hard his heart pounded or how shallow his breaths were.

They felt so impossibly close it was ridiculous they weren't touching.

Shane couldn't speak with her lips that close to his. Couldn't do anything except beat back his desire with a stick.

He had no chance. No way in hell she felt what he did.

Her hair, wild and stuck to side of her neck with sweat, the subtle tilt of her head, all begged him to close that gap. To feel just how soft her lips were. Nothing about Lucky said no.

_Maybe--_

The door slammed open and Shane couldn't tell which one of them jumped back faster.

Mac wasn't good at hiding the absolute murder in his eyes, but made a visible effort to move past it. That made Shane short-circuit a little. Did what he think almost just happened _really_ almost happen?

"I'm sorry, Luck. Can we talk? Like, for real?"

They went through a back door out into the night air and Shane trailed behind with his hands in his pockets, lingering almost out of earshot when they stopped and lit cigarettes. Mac was drunkenly blunt.

"Bette told me it might be my last chance to be honest with you, so I am. Your sister called me to invite us to her wedding because you weren't picking up and didn't know we broke up. It pissed me off."

Shane paused. There was the core of the problem. _'We broke up.'_ Mac's hot and cold suddenly made sense. If Shane was any nicer of a guy he probably would have felt bad for him. Letting Lucky go? Idiot.

"Oh." Her voice was soft.

"I had to explain to her and you know how she fuckin' gets. All _'What did you do this time?'_ and _'Is your worthless ass the reason she's out raising chickens?'"_

"I'm sorry. I... didn't know she was getting married. I've been avoiding her calls."

Shane didn't have to look at Lucky to know what a sucker punch that was. There was her perfect, boring sister. With her great job and promotion and now _engagement?_ Way to make anyone feel old.

"I don't care that Kate chewed my ass off. What bugs me is if she's right."

Lucky still didn't say it. "It was just too stressful for me out here."

"Is that code for I slept around on you one too many times?"

Lucky really laughed at that one. "You slept around like five too many times. You're a good friend but you're the worst fucking boyfriend, Mac. Really."

"Is that why you left? I can't stop thinking about it. I didn't...I didn't mean to do that to you."

"It's just too much out here for me. I started feeling bad. So I did what I've always done--go to my grandfather's house."

Mac waited before he said anything. "You don't miss it?"

"The surprise, sure. There's always something going on here. But I don't miss the smog or the traffic or Joja. At all."

"I miss you. So does Bette. I know I was a shit boyfriend--I get that. I took you for granted, I know. I've had a year to think about it. Are you sure we can't go back to the way things were and forget everything else, though? We had some great times before all that. Before I ruined it."

Shane looked up to see Lucky's ghost of a smile over her cigarette. "I could never stay. You remember when I started cab jumping for fun?"

"Yeah, of course."

"I was hoping it'd kill me."

Shane felt the rush of pain in the silence.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You know it's bad when people start to ask if you're okay, lol. Sorry, folks! I am, indeed, fine. Physically, at least. But this chapter totally dropkicked me ngl. I have no idea why some chapters are just *waves hands* _like that._ But hey, look at how long it was! That's something, I guess.
> 
> Anyway, please enjoy and thanks again!! I love all of ya. ;)


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